War
by aranenumenesse
Summary: Animals. Filthy animals... AU. Rogan. Contains dark themes.
1. Warrior

_Ten years ago_

"Keep away from them, Marie!" Angry shout and girl scooted away from ragged group of men, retreating hastily to the front porch of the ramshackle hut where her father stood. Her father, tall and strong blacksmith of the village cast disgusted look towards the group before pushing Marie back inside and following her.

"Who were they, daddy?" She asked when they sat in front of the fireplace and he took out bowls, scooping generous amounts of stew for both of them from a pot hanging above the crackling fire. She had seen the group of black clad men from a distance. Once they got in to the village she was drawn to them like moth to the flame. They were first visitors in years. First strangers she had ever seen.

"Destroyers. On their way to the front line. They spend the night in here and leave by morning. I don't want you to go out before they're gone."

Destroyers. Word send shivers down her spine. Nana had told stories about them. Wild creatures. Unclean creatures. No more than animals. Nana had seen one Destroyer when she had been just a little girl from a distance.

"Runaway. They were carting it back to outpost. Vicious looking. Saw nightmares of it weeks after…" Nana had finished her story and rubbed her arms as if she was cold.

"Daddy? Will you stay in tonight?" She was a bit scared. She was used to that her father worked late, often through the whole night, but tonight was different. Anything could happen when Destroyers were in the village.

"No. I have to finish those cartwheels Murdoch ordered week ago. Don't worry. I'll be fine. They won't come in to the shop. And I'm sure they are well guarded. Now… Eat up and wash the dishes. Don't stay up late…" Her father said standing up and ruffling her hair before leaving. She could hear him locking the door.

He sat down slowly and scratched his neck against a wooden support pillar. Sand had gotten under the suppression collar, and it was chafing. He tried to lie down comfortably, but it was impossible. There was a heavy metal band around his waist, and his hands were shackled to it to his backside. He sighed, kneeled on the floor and lowered his body on top of his thighs, head propped against the hard floorboards. It was a bit awkward position, ass sticking up in the air and he would wake up from a puddle of drool, but he had learned from experience it was the safest way to slumber. Easy and fast to get back on your feet in case of emergency. Others of his kind were also lying down around him.

He could feel small feet scurrying all over his skin. Lice. Not harmful, but unbelievable uncomfortable. His clothes were swarming with them. He had asked one of the Guards to shave his head to keep them off from his face. Guard had shaken his head. They weren't paid to do that. That was a job for a Mechanic.

Well, it wasn't that bad. At least he had gotten food. Guards had driven their little troop mercilessly forward for week now, allowing them mere hours of rest and only enough nutrients and water to keep them functioning. He knew he would pay for the meat and bread little later with nasty internal cramps, but now he was in a blissful state. Little uncomfortable, but warm and with full belly. With a promise of one night undisturbed sleep.

She had washed the dishes, and sat in front of the fireplace reading. Something Nana had taught her before she died few years ago. Not many could do that anymore. There were only three other persons in the whole village that could read. Her father, storekeeper Simmons and reverend Uphill. Books were hard to find, but every now and then Simmons ordered them to his store. His father would buy one, read it, and if it was suitable, give it to Marie.

This one wasn't so interesting. It was a serious book for adults who liked long and hard words, but she was reading it anyway, to train her brain. And to keep her mind occupied. She had tried to go to sleep, but as soon as she closed her eyes she started hearing things. At one point she had been dead-on sure somebody was sneaking around in the kitchen. Impossible. There was no way anybody but her father could get in, but the thought of strangers in the village, Destroyers, made her jumpy and paranoid. So she had taken the book from the shelf and started reading it.

Shit. Should have known not to drink that water. But it had tasted so good, and he had been so thirsty. Now his bladder was full, nearly bursting from the pressure, and he would have to get up and ask one of the Guards to help him. They weren't exactly thrilled if their charges didn't stay put after bedtime. More than once he had bought the right to answer to nature's call with a split lip or bruised ribs.

Crap. There was no way out of this. He would wet himself if he didn't get out soon. It wasn't much better option. He still remembered the treatment they had given him when he had caught an infection. He had been literally unable to hold, and Guards had gotten a field day with him, taunting, kicking and beating until all he could do was to lie on a broken, bloody heap on the ground. They had taken the suppression collar off to let him heal from it, and his mutation had taken care of the infection, too.

He scooted on his knees and wrinkled his nose. His left cheek had fallen asleep, and it was tingling. He scratched it against the wooden support beam next to him before standing up. Slowly. Slow, careful movements. Head and shoulders bent, eyes cast to the ground. He wanted to squirm and run, but all he could do was to wait until somebody noticed him and allowed him to speak.

"What the fuck do you want, Wolverine?" Higgins. He suppressed a relieved sigh. Higgins was a hard man, but he was a decent man. Not like the other Guards.

"I need to take a leak." Voice sounded funny coming out of him. It had been weeks since he had last spoken.

"Okay… You know the drill…" Higgins sighed and jiggled the keychain, urging him to step closer.

Higgins had freed his right hand and stood behind him, heavy rifle cocked and ready, pointing at him. He didn't mind. He would have done the same. Higgins knew what he was capable of. He had seen up close the end result of carelessness.

"Ready?" Higgins asked.

"Not yet…" He had already peed for what felt like an hour.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say your mutation was the ability to produce urine. Come on, Wolverine! I don't have all night…" Higgins was nagging, but he could hear from his voice that the Guard was in a good mood, so he dared to press his luck a bit.

"Could you… Could you let me wash myself?"

She was going nuts. Crazy, like that farmer from out of town. Hearing voices when there was nobody but her at home. She checked the kitchen for the fifth time, finding it neatly organized and empty, just as she left it after washing the dishes. She had discarded the book and just sat in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth and slightly distracting, crackling sounds that it made.

"He'll be home soon, and I can go to sleep…" She whispered, yawning widely. She knew she was wrong. Her father wouldn't come home soon. He would be back by morning, reeking of hot metal and coals, dog-tired.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to get out of the house. She decided to go to her father's shop. She could sleep there. There she would be safe, and she wouldn't keep hearing strange noises over the banging and clatter of her father's hammer. He would be angry, but what could happen to her if she ran straight to there? It was just around the corner. All she had to do was to go through the marketplace and she would be safe.

"Thanks. Thanks for this," Wolverine stuttered, not believing his good luck. Higgins had scratched his neck for a while, pondering his question.

"Well, you sure could use some soap and water. Hell, all you guys could. I think I saw a well at the marketplace earlier. Place should be empty at this time of night. But remember… Try anything and I put a hole through your gut…" Higgins had said and guided him to the right direction. Soap. Real soap and clean water. Higgins had taken off his shackles and kept the rifle aimed at him. Wolverine stretched his back and shoulders. Discarded his filthy clothes and admired the small white rectangular on his palm. Size of a matchstick box. Little piece of heaven.

"Go on," Higgins urged him, slightly amused.

He worked up generous amount of lather after downing a bucket of water over his filthy body. His skin was tingling and bristling. Soap had a peculiar, sharp scent. He tossed a surprised glance to Higgins.

"Fuck, I know what it's like. To reek like a fucking piece of shit and feel all kinds of itsy bitsy critters crawling all over you. We arrive to the outpost tomorrow, I can restock my pack there," man said. Higgins had given him his own soap. Not the crap they usually gave to field units. Real stuff, the kind that helped to get rid of grime, filth and vermin.

"Higgins… Thanks." His throat constricted alarmingly, so he shut his mouth and eyes and started to clean his head.

He was scrubbing his clothes clean with what was left of the soap. Suddenly he stopped and tilted his head. Higgins nodded.

"I smell it, too. Smoke." He turned to look to the other side of the marketplace.

"Blacksmith. His shop is on fire."

"Shit. You're right, Wolverine," Higgins said, taking a hesitant step towards the shop.

"Two people inside," Wolverine said. Higgins looked torn. He looked towards the shop. Black smoke curled up from the chimney. No outward sign of roaring flames yet. He looked at Wolverine. Only mild curiosity shone from Destroyer's eyes. Granted, Wolverine was the most humane from the group they were guarding, but he wasn't a human being. Metal collar around his neck was silent testimony of his true nature.

"Want to be a hero?" Higgins asked. Wolverine shrugged his shoulders. Higgins reached for the small electronic device on his belt. It would cut the current from Wolverine's collar.

"If I turn it off, what will you do?" He asked. Wolverine tilted his head.

"I'm not going to gut you, if that's what you're thinking of. You're one of the nicest of these bastards herding us." It was enough. Higgins pushed a button. Wolverine groaned and stretched his shoulders. Took deep breaths. And looked suddenly all too strong and tall for Higgins' taste.

"You want me to get them out?" Wolverine asked, nodding towards the shop that was nearly completely engulfed by flickering flames.

"Go!"

If he got lucky, he would burn bad enough. Bad enough to slip the collar off from around his neck. So he didn't try to find the safest possible route to the back of the shop. He deliberately chose the hard way, going through scorching inferno, letting it fry his body. When he reached his destination, the actual forge, he was stripped to his skeleton. Nearly unable to move, bleeding profusely.

Blacksmith was no more than a charred corpse sprawled over the forge. His daughter, a little girl that had observed them earlier that day, was hiding in the far corner shielding her face and body from the heat.

Had he stopped to think, he would probably acted differently. But in the back of his mind he knew he didn't have much time left before Higgins got suspicious. He grabbed a firm hold from his collar and yanked it upwards. It slid off easily. He threw it away, grabbed the girl and run out from the back door. Girl was screaming. At first he thought she was just scared of his hideous appearance, metal skeleton covered with bits and pieces of burnt flesh, but soon he realized she was crying out of pain. Metal on top of his bones was slowly cooling down, but it was still too hot for new flesh to grow over it, no matter how hard his mutation tried to heal the damage he had taken. That meant that he had to be burning her with his touch.

He placed the girl to the ground. Now he could hear voices, screaming and shouting. They were approaching rapidly. He could hear Higgins cursing loudly. Somebody had probably told him that the shop had a backdoor. Last glance to the crying girl. He had burned her. Clothes on her were charred. Skin and flesh underneath was bloody, blistered mess.

"I'm sorry, kid. Take care of yourself," He whispered before fleeing to the night.

_Present day_

Ten years ago Marie had manifested, early age of nine. Accidentally killed her father, and unknowingly helped a Destroyer to escape. She managed to hide her mutation for three years, before another accident exposed her, and she was forced to flee from her home. She had been drifting along the caravan route, doing odd jobs along her way, supporting herself for the best of her abilities. That's how she ended up standing behind a bar, an apron tied to her waist, room full of drunken customers to keep an eye for and serve liquor.

In a weird way she was grateful for the severe scars she carried all over her body, a reminder of the night her father died. They gave her a plausible excuse to keep covered from head to toe in all climates. As soon as Marie told her employers about the fire, how her fathers forge had mysteriously exploded and she had gotten burnt, they didn't question her will to wrap up to several layers of cloth.

"A beer." Order was grunted so low and hushed tone Marie barely heard it. There was nothing low and hushed in the man that had spoken. He was one of the fighters, part of the entourage that drifted from settlement to another, fighting for money against anything and anybody willing. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and unusually hairy. Most drifters shaved off everything except their eyebrows to keep of lice and other vermin. This one had thick, dark hair with wild, earlike peaks on it, really old-fashioned muttonchops, and what she had seen from the cage, thick rug of chest hair that trailed low on his stomach, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. Most of the fighters were loud and obnoxious, showering her with rude comments and even ruder proposals, but this one opted to stay silent, night after night. Just sitting there and downing beer after beer, like there was no tomorrow.

She placed the bottle in front of him, and flinched back when another customer tried to grab her hand. Marie could have sworn that she heard the fighter growl low in his throat before his hand latched to the one that had tried to grab her.

"Didn't know she was taken. Sorry about that, Logan," other man said retreating. The one he had called Logan, the one that had ordered the beer, just sat there, staring blindly at the bottle in front of him.

"Thanks," she nodded and chucked another bottle in front of her savior. Man just shrugged, gulping down the first one and taking the one she had just given under his scrutiny.

Rest of the night flew by without incidents. Just the usual banter and lewd comments, but nobody tried to grab her anymore. She delivered what they ordered and kept replacing Logan's empty bottles with new ones.

"How the hell do you do it?" Marie wondered out loud when she eyed the pile of the empty beer bottles she had put aside. Bar was closed, she was alone, and she had the time to observe her surroundings. She had kept putting Logan's bottles to an empty bin, conveniently placed on her side of the counter at the same spot he used to sit on the other side. There must have been enough bottles to put at least five big men under the table. Yet she had seen Logan when he was leaving, and he hadn't even been tipsy. She shrugged. Some people knew how to hold their liquor. She let it slip out of her mind and grabbed a broom.

Floor was littered with broken glass, small scraps of paper and bottle caps. As Marie got closer to the cage, sweeping from corners to the center, she started to encounter different variety of trash. Wads of cotton. Bloodied rags. Small, broken vials. Rolls of tape. Even syringes.

She really didn't want to think about what went down in that cage, when fighters were in. She closed her eyes and ears and sold booze. Marie knew she could have gotten obscenely rich in no amount of time if she used the knowledge she had gained by listening the fighters. If she wanted, she could have made a few bets, and leave this place for good. But she was quite sure she didn't want that kind of money. She wasn't that desperate yet. Most of the fights ended when there was one conscious and one unconscious fighter in the cage. But some of those ended with one alive and the other dead. And she was dead-on sure she couldn't have accepted any amount of money over a cold corpse.

Next night, next round of fights and drinks. But it was a different night for Marie. It was the anniversary. The night of the fire. Many years she had spent this night remembering, curled to a tiny, sobbing heap, but few years ago it had gotten easier. And tonight she was working. Moody, ready to burst to tears at any moment, but she had figured she couldn't keep regretting for the rest of her life about something she had no power over.

It seemed to be a different night for Logan, too. Marie had labeled him permanently depressed, but he seemed to be on a chipper mood. She even managed to catch him smile occasionally. Other fighters were on a foul, bitter mood, throwing dirty glances at his direction.

"It's not natural…"

"…Berserk. Saw how he just shrugged it off?"

"Like it was nothing."

"…Kept beating…"

"You're on a good mood tonight. Who pulled that rod off from your ass?" Marie asked. Logan just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nobody. It's a good night. Give me another one." Usually he drank beer, but now he had been ordering whiskey.

"Coming right up. What are you celebrating?" She asked, filling his glass. Logan tossed it back like it was water.

"I don't know. Freedom?" He grumbled and pointed at the empty glass. She refilled it.

"Freedom?"

"Nothing. Nothing really. Just been a good day, and good night. Made a few bets, won them, and tomorrow I'm going to kiss this cruddy, fucked up circus good-bye. Got my own wheels, and a place to stay. Life is good."

"I'm glad everything worked out for you…" Marie muttered hurrying to hand out a tray filled with beer bottles before returning to him.

"You're in a crappy mood. Who shoved that rod up in your ass?" Logan asked.

"Nobody. Has been a crappy day. But I'm happy for you," she tried to force a smile on her face. She really was genuinely happy for everybody who could take off on their own; free to do as they pleased, where ever they wanted to do it.

Logan didn't know what made him linger after the closing hour. What made him stalk in the shadows and follow her. She was just a bartender. Friendly face in the crowd. Source of booze. But something had been off during the whole evening, buzzing just out of his range. His gut had tried to tell him something, and Logan tended to listen to his gut. It hadn't been wrong before. When he heard a scuffle, and something being hit from behind the corner he knew it hadn't failed him this time either.

He recognized them immediately. A man that had tried to grab the bartender two nights ago. And that bartender, small and fragile looking thing, slouched on the ground. Man spat on her.

"I'm not good enough? Huh? Is that what this is about? Let me tell you something about this Logan of yours…" Logan heard the man hiss. For a moment he pondered his options. He could just walk away. After all, he was leaving tomorrow. He could turn around, forget all of this and walk away. Then man crouched next to her, yanking her head up from her hair, making her whimper, and option of leaving was taken out from him. He recognized that whimper.

When he finally made his move she was out cold, unconscious, so he didn't have to worry. Claws were itching just under the surface of the skin between his knuckles. Logan waited until he got the full attention of her assailant. Then let razor-sharp extensions slowly inch out from his hands. Three from each hand, nine inches long and curving. Claws shimmered in the moonlight.

"I knew it…" Man huffed just before Logan sunk those claws to his stomach, splitting tissues like they were made out of butter.

"A mutie…" Man gasped, light of life flickering and blinking in his eyes before turning off completely.

"Wrong. Two of them," he corrected the dead man and scooped the bartender's limp form to his arms.

"When I told you to take care of yourself, this wasn't exactly what I meant…" He whispered scanning their surroundings before taking a long route to the warehouse where he kept the truck he had won earlier.

The bartender was still unconscious when Logan reached the warehouse, but he couldn't smell any serious injuries on her, just some cuts and bruises. Again he was left with a difficult choice. Should he leave her here, where she clearly had a life of sorts, or should he take her with him. Both options had their pros and cons. But her safety weighed more on his scale than her possible discomfort. Logan eased her from his lap to the passenger's side of the truck, securing her there with a seatbelt. She had been the sole reason that he had managed to escape all those years ago. He should at least try to repay that somehow.

He expected her to bolt and scream when she came back to her senses. Instead she just opened her eyes, took in her surroundings and stayed still.

"Hi. I took care of that bastard. Couldn't leave you there. You were pretty out of it," Logan explained, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"Okay. What are you going to do? Do you expect some sort of compensation for your troubles?" She asked.

"No. But I was in a hurry and couldn't leave you there alone."

"Could you let me out? I can walk back from here… I guess…" Marie said, gazing through the dusty windows.

"Hell, no. We have been driving over an hour. I'll give you a lift to the next settlement."

"And what am I supposed to do there? I'm grateful that you helped me, but all my stuff is back in my place, including money."

Shit. He hadn't really thought about this. Then something made him open his mouth again.

"You could tag along with me for a while."

"And do what?" She asked.

"I need somebody I can trust. A clean person," he said, hoping she would catch his meaning.

"If I let you fuck me, what's in it for me?" She asked.

"Food. Clothes. Protection. A ride to where I'm going."

"And what happens after we get there?" She asked.

"Haven't thought about it yet," Logan grunted. She sat in silence for a while.

"I have some scars…" Marie started.

"I don't care."

"And I haven't done anything before," she said.

"I haven't either," Logan confessed.

He had manifested young. Army had caught him. Destroyers were kept on a tight leash. Chemically neutered. Nobody wanted more muties in this world. And after he had escaped he hadn't really been able to trust people enough to allow anybody to invade his personal space.

Marie wasn't sure of what to think. Had she actually made a deal? Agreed to whoring herself to the man sitting next to her? And how the hell was she planning to go through with it without either revealing her status as a mutant or killing him in the process?

"I don't think it's a good idea…" She started, unsure how to continue.

"Fuck. I'm not going to rape you. If you don't feel like it, the deal's off. I just… It was just a thought. You feel like I could trust you. And you don't look sick or anything… Shit. Just forget it," Logan huffed.

Logan was actually relieved. He didn't know what had made him offer that deal for her in the first place.

"Could you still give me a ride to the next settlement?" Marie asked timidly.

"Yeah. I'll help you to find a ride back home after we get there. Someone decent." Decent?

"You have got to be kidding me…" She muttered low under her breath. Logan's gaze snapped from the road to her face, one eyebrow cocked in a questioning manner.

"Sounded a bit strange, coming out from the same mouth as the not so decent proposal earlier."

"I already told you to forget it," he quipped harshly.

They reached the next settlement after three hours ride along the bumpy caravan route. And it soon became apparent that wasn't a place to be if you were a mutant. Place was crawling with Hunters and groups of Destroyers with their Guards.

Logan parked the truck to a back alley of a bar, cursing softly. His passenger was shifting on her seat nervously, taking quick glances from their surroundings. Probably afraid of the furious looking Destroyers.

"How about we get the fuck out of here. Right now. It'll be another day before we reach the next settlement, but…" He started, when Marie suddenly grabbed his arm, face pale and ashen.

"Drive!" She shouted. He took a glimpse from the rearview mirror and hit the gas. Group of Hunters were approaching the truck.

"Christ! That was close!" Logan hissed after they had left the settlement and the Army behind them. To Marie he looked a tad bit too relieved.

"I won this truck in a fight. This baby is probably stolen from the Army…" He muttered an explanation. Marie nodded. Of course. For a moment she had thought… No. There were no free mutants, aside her. She was the only one. Alone.

"What were they doing this far from the battlefield?" She asked. Logan shrugged.

"They were probably on their way to the outpost. Fresh from the assembly line."

"Assembly line?" Marie asked puzzled.

"Not all muties have aggressive mutations. They need enhancements. Implants and other crap like that. That's where the good doctors step in. Screw up their heads and then screw up their bodies. I thought everybody knew that."

"I know only what Nana told me once, when I was just a kid. And I saw Destroyers years ago…" She said, and then quieted.

"They're just people. Fucked up in the head, but just people like you and me."

"Daddy used to say that people who spoke like that should be sent to the battlefield with muties."

"What about your mom?" Logan asked.

"She died when I was born. Daddy never spoke about her. I don't even know what she looked like."

They drove in silence for a while. Scenery around them was barren. Rocks and sand. Small white patches here and there. Salt.

"How do you seem to know so much about Destroyers?" Marie suddenly asked. Again Logan shrugged.

"I'm a good listener. Been hearing rumors. Don't know if they are for real, but hey… Mutants begin the same as all the others. They have a family. Every one of those Destroyers has been a kid at some point. Playing around with other kids. I don't think they are any more evil or tainted as the rest of the population. But that's just my opinion. Feel free to disagree."

She sat in stunned silence for a while. Mulling over her options. She had never done it. Never, ever in her life. Finally she braved herself.

"I'm a mutant." There. Now she said it. She cringed when Logan took his foot from the gas and let the truck roll to a halt, before turning to look at her.

"I know. I could smell it on you when I carried you out from your dad's forge."

"You… No. I don't know how I got out of there, but…" Marie stammered.

"I was a Destroyer. Our group stayed at your village that night. One of the guards sent me to get you out from there. I got so badly burned that I managed to slip off my collar before I carried you out. You got your scars from me. My bones are covered with metal. It got so hot that it burned you."

"No."

"And I bet I can tell exactly where, and what shape of scars you have."

"No."

"One on your side. A big one. Like a row of ribs. Couple on your back. Thin line across the whole back. That one you got from my arm. Another smaller on your lower back. Small, round. My kneecap when I kneeled to put you down."

"No…"

"Handprints on your left shoulder and both arms. One on your stomach."

"Stop talking!" Marie screamed and covered her ears with her palms.

"And you saw these." Logan raised his right hand and let claws out. Small gasp escaped from her.

She hadn't realized that the creature that had saved her was a Destroyer. Not before she had seen the backs of his hands, metal gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. At first she hadn't comprehend what she was seeing, but later the image had returned to her mind. Under the bleeding mess of burnt and charred tissue had lain a set of knives.

"It was you…" She whispered. Logan nodded.

"But how… Why… You don't look burnt?" Marie said, reaching with her gloved hand, placing it to the unmarred skin of his cheek.

"I heal. That's my mutation. I heal and have enhanced senses. What's yours?"

"Poison skin. People get hurt if they touch my bare skin," she confessed.

"That's why you didn't want to make that deal?" Logan asked. She nodded.

"I think we should make a deal anyway… Not that kind of deal," he hurriedly exclaimed when Marie's gaze darkened.

"How about if we stick together? I have a feeling we would get along just fine. I have enough money to support us both, and I could use some company. Have been on my own since I escaped, and I'm sick and tired of it."

"And my part of the deal?" Marie asked.

"Stay with me. Talk with me."

"That's all? In return of clothes, food and protection?" Marie asked, not believing her ears.

"That's all. We have a deal?" Logan asked. She nodded quickly.

"Good."

"Uh… About that food…" Marie said when her stomach reminded that it had been nearly twenty hours since she had last eaten. Logan opened his door.

"All the stuff is in the back. I'll get you something," he said.

"Wasn't really planning to travel with anybody. This'll have to do until we get to the next settlement…" Logan said, climbing back in and tossing a small packet of dried meat and a bottle of water to her lap. Sight of dry, nearly black strips of meat made Marie's mouth water. Meat. She hadn't eaten it for months. It was simply too expensive.

"Is this… Can I have all of this?" She asked, staring at the small plastic pouch, not daring to touch it.

"Eat it. It's better than nothing," Logan said. He didn't have to tell it to her twice. She tore in to the package and was stuffing the leathery strips to her mouth like they were file fit for a king.

Logan felt a little bad about his earlier slip up, his stupid proposal of a different kind of deal. She was starving, and she would have probably given in, spread her legs to him for food. That wasn't a way to form a lasting bond between them. And Logan wasn't going to settle to anything less. Be it friendship or deeper relationship, he was going to keep her with him. He had been alone long enough.

Marie finished her meal and wiped her mouth to the back of her hand, slouching back on her seat. Her stomach had shrunk during her years on the road, and those few scraps she had eaten were enough to fill it completely. She closed her eyes.

"Thank you…" She managed to whisper before she dozed off.

She woke up few hours later. Truck wasn't moving. Logan was sleeping, too, relaxed on his seat. It was dark. For some reason it was dark. Marie glanced at the clock on the dashboard. She could have sworn it was close to nightfall, but in reality it was barely past noon.

"Sandstorm. Should pass us soon. We'll get going as soon as I can see the road again," Logan murmured, shifting on his seat.

When weather cleared and they could see again, it became apparent that they were going absolutely nowhere. They were surrounded by a group of Hunters.

_Out to desert_

Collared and shackled. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to puke. To curl up and die. All too familiar sensation of nausea settled to the pit of his stomach when collar shut down his mutation. It would take several days from Logan to adjust to the feeling of aging again. For a moment he toyed with the idea of jumping out from the moving truck. If he were lucky, he would snap his neck when he fell, and everything would be over. Then Logan got a good look from his passenger's face. Girl was scared out of her wits, yanking and tugging her chains, trying to get her hands to the collar around her neck. Logan knew what would happen if she didn't stop soon.

"Stop it. Stay put and don't let out a peep," he hissed hastily when one of the Guards escorting the Hunters turned to look at her. She stilled. Logan took in his surroundings before scooting stealthily next to her, leaning his head against her shoulder.

"Stay still. Keep your mouth shut. Move and talk only when you are told to. And don't try to resist. What ever they decide to do, act along," he whispered, begging silently that nobody saw him speaking to her. They would be both punished for that.

"They are going to take us to the outpost. I'm already modified, and I'm guessing you don't even need modifications with that mutation of yours. Most likely they will beat up us both, sooner or later. They are going to do it as many times as it takes to break us. What ever they want you to do, do it. You can't take that kind of beating…"

"What about you?" Marie whispered. Little too loudly. Quick glance told Logan nobody heard it. They had lucked out.

"I'll be just fine. I know the drill. Now just shut up and stay out of trouble. Don't draw attention to you…" He hissed before standing up and charging towards the group of Hunters and Guards that sat at the far end of the lorry.

It had been a stupid thing to do. Guards had stopped the truck, pushed him down from the lorry and beaten him to pulp. Yet Logan grinned from ear to ear when they threw him back up and truck started again. Marie didn't utter a word, but the look on her face spoke volumes. Scared, disgusted, panicked. Logan winked with his still functioning eye.

"They have to take my collar off eventually… Can't let me die… Too expensive modifications…" He gurgled, spitting out blood and couple of chipped tooth.

"Hush… They're coming…" Truck had stopped again.

Just as Marie thought things wouldn't get any weirder, Logan started to sing. Off-key, with some strange language, and very loud. Guards hopped on the lorry, eyeing him disgusted.

"Cut that out." When that didn't shut Logan's mouth, they tried another tactic. One of them took a firm hold from Marie's hair and pointed a gun to her head.

"Shut up or the bitch bites it." Logan's voice got only louder. Guard sighed and shoved her away.

"Face it, Higgins… You can't trick me… Either shut me up for good, or listen while…" Marie screamed when a gun went off.

"Can't you do anything right!" Guard that Logan had called Higgins shouted, snagging a smoking rifle from the hands of another, much younger Guard.

"Are you willing to pay from your salary if he dies?" Higgins grunted, then reached for his belt.

Logan lay on a pool of blood that was rapidly spreading. His stomach was a torn mess of lacerated flesh and innards. Explosive ammunition, and it had struck him at close range, nozzle of the rifle nearly touching his stomach. Marie could see his eyes moving rapidly under his closed lids. At least he was still alive. She heard a small click, and Logan's whole body shuddered. Wounds and bruises on him started to heal immediately. Guard had turned off his collar. And suddenly Logan spoke.

"Stay down, kid."

"What happened?" They were running. Marie could hear Logan panting behind her, feel his hands on her back, nudging her almost gently to the direction he wanted her to go. She had closed her eyes when Logan had told her to stay down. For a moment screams and nearly deafening gunfire had filled the air, then complete silence fell. Logan had scooped her up and dropped her to the ground, following her and they had started running.

"What happened?" Marie asked again. And again she felt Logan's hands on her back. She couldn't keep running anymore, but it soon became apparent she didn't have to. Logan's hands grasped her shoulders and they both fell, Logan on top of her, knocking the air out from her lungs momentarily.

Something wet and sticky was spreading to her back. Logan had her efficiently trapped, both sets of claws out, embedded firmly to the dry ground to both sides of her head. He was heavy. He wasn't moving. And that sticky, wet and warm feeling on her back was growing. Coppery stench was filling her nostrils.

"Oh… Shit…" Marie heard him grunt.

"Logan?"

"Yeah… Wait a sec…" She could feel his muscles tensing. Logan gasped, and claws slid back in. Wounds that they left started to bleed.

"Logan?"

"Yeah, yeah… Just give me a minute… I know I'm heavy…" He muttered. Marie could feel him shifting.

"Logan!"

"What! …Shit…" He finally managed to crawl off from her. She rose on her hands and knees and turned to look at him.

"I got them all… Except that fucking driver… Higgins managed to turn the collar back on before I…" Logan's body was riddled with bullet holes. Some had gone straight through, leaving behind small, clean and round holes. Not all bullets had done that. There were three deep crater-like holes on his torso. Two on his stomach, one near his collarbone, each big enough to stuff a good-sized fist in it.

"Driver's probably called back-up… Go. Keep running to that direction… I'll make sure they have something else to do than chase you," Logan hissed, trying to sit up. His eyes rolled back to his head and he fell back to the ground, unconscious.

"I'll run, alright. But not in to that direction…" Marie muttered, glancing briefly towards the open desert Logan had pointed her. Then stood up and started to run towards the truck she could see glimmering in the distance.

Setting sun cast reddish hue over the scenery. She was tired and her throat was parched when she reached the truck. Driver stepped out from the cabin, aiming at her with his rifle. Man was pale as a ghost and trembled out of fear.

"Stay away from me!" He shouted. Marie lifted her hands above her head.

"I didn't come for you," she assured.

"Just keep the fuck away from me!" Man nearly screamed when she took a step towards the truck. He was practically foaming from the mouth. He was in a full-blown panic.

"I just want to help my friend. I came to get something…" Marie started and took another cautious step towards the truck. Man let out an agonized wail and with a sudden movement turned the rifle another way around, taking the nozzle to his mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut when his finger curled around the trigger.

Sight that greeted Marie when she climbed to the lorry made her gag. Logan had torn through Guards and Hunters like a whirlwind. Severed heads and limbs. Sticky strands of organs and intestines. Pools of blood. And flies. She tried to locate the Guard Logan had called Higgins. Relatively easy task if corpses had been intact, but it took her a while to find the right torso. Finally she found him. Resisting the urge to retch she grabbed the belt that still hung around the remains of the Guard, turning the corpse over on a slippery surface until she found the gadget she had come to look for.

It wasn't until she had gathered enough food and water to a backpack she found before it hit her. At the time she would get back to Logan, he would most likely be dead. He probably was dead already. Dead, with flies buzzing in and out of his wounds, glassy eyes staring unseeing to the sky.

"Fuck it. I kill him if he's dead. After all I did… He wouldn't dare to die on me, right?" Marie tried to brace herself. Lump in her throat was about the size of the truck's tire and tears stung in her eyes. She adjusted the backpack and started to run again.

She stumbled over something. Sun had set, and she hadn't have sense enough to find a flashlight. Marie rubbed her knee and cursed softly.

"Kid?" Weak whisper came from the lump she had stumbled upon. Logan. And he was still alive!

"I found the switch. Hang on. You'll get better soon," Marie stammered and rummaged through the backpack, trying to find the device she had taken from Higgins.

"The fuck are you doing… I told you to get lost…" Logan hissed. Marie could feel his hand clamping around her ankle.

"Driver was too scared to sound the alarm. He shot himself when I got there. I found this…" She said pressing the button from the small box she had taken from Higgins.

"And some food and water." Logan's grip on her ankle tightened suddenly and she could hear him draw shuddering breath.

"I was wondering what took them so long…" Marie heard him grunt and he sat up. She could see faint outlines of his hunched figure in the darkness.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I will be… Ow!"

She had scrambled on his lap, nearly smothering him to her embrace. Logan tried feebly to untangle her hands around him, but it was too much of an effort. So instead he sat still, bringing his arms around her and trying to catch his bearings.

"I have to breathe," He reminded her, chuckling softly. Logan couldn't remember anybody being so glad over him being alive ever. She was practically tearing his clothes in her frantic need to see and feel the proof that he really was all right. Small delicate hands ran over newly healed skin, making him squirm.

"That tickles," Logan said, taking a hold of her wrists.

"You really are alright," Marie sighed, hiding her face to the crook of his neck. There was something wet and warm on her cheeks. Tears. She was crying.

"Why didn't you run like I told you to?" Logan asked after she had calmed down and they were walking slowly towards the truck. He had reasoned that if all the Guards were dead, there was no reason for them to start walking. He could clear the truck from the bodies and they could start driving again.

"Would you have done it?" Marie asked. Logan cleared his throat and pulled her against his side, squeezing her shoulder.

"I wanted to. At first I was going to dive off from that lorry. Just to get away from them."

"But you didn't."

"Couldn't leave you there. Couldn't let them fuck you up. But next time, when I tell you to run, you run. Is that clear?" When she didn't answer Logan stopped walking and crouched in front of her.

"Is that clear? If anything happens, you fucking run. Or I could just skewer you right now, spare me the trouble of feeding you…" He grumbled, claws inching their way out from his knuckles.

"Alright! I promise to run!" Marie shouted. Logan's brows knit together and he inhaled deeply through his nose.

"Liar," he whispered, brushed a brief kiss to her forehead and stood up.

_To Settlement_

It took them a while to get the truck back to presentable condition, but it was well worth the effort. Logan found a key to their collars.

"I think I want to keep mine," Marie said, stopping him before he opened the metal band adorning her neck.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Logan asked, swatted her hand away and opened the collar.

"You're not going to keep this. No way," he said sternly, throwing the collar out to the desert. She followed it with her gaze until it fell to the ground and sighed.

"Do you have any idea how much easier it would have made my life?" She asked.

"And do you have any idea how much easier it would have made for the Army to capture us?" Logan asked. Marie shook her head.

"They have tracking devices installed to those. Every fucking Guard and Hunter within ten kilometers radius would have located us. Now all they will find are those collars and few corpses."

"Plus I don't want to see that shit on you. Or on anybody for that matter. It makes me sick," he added when they climbed in the truck.

"Hungry?" Marie asked, offering him an energy bar she had found. Logan took it little reluctantly. He needed to eat, but he felt a little queasy. He could still smell the blood. Feel the fragments of the bullets that hadn't cleared from his system yet. He could practically taste the fear that had landed on him as soon as he had realized they had been caught. If it hadn't been for his passenger…

"What's your name, kid?" He asked.

"M… Marie. It's Marie." She spoke it little hesitantly. But she was telling the truth.

"Haven't used it for a while?" He asked. He wasn't really that interested, but he needed a diversion. Something to keep his mind off from what had happened.

"I left home when I was twelve. Started to call myself Rogue. Marie… It was something I left behind." Her explanation was short but thorough. Too short. He had nearly eaten the bar and started the engine of the truck.

"Keep talking."

"About what?" Marie asked.

"I don't fucking care. Talk, sing, shout… Anything." He started to tremble, and turned off the engine. He wouldn't be able to drive. Not yet.

"Talk to me," he was shivering so badly that his words came out a bit slurred.

"I don't know what to talk about…" She started. Logan curled his arms around his sides and leaned his forehead to the steering wheel. His shoulders were heaving in the rhythm of his breathing. She couldn't find words. Instead she scooted to his side and placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing gently. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and his trembling stopped. He stopped even breathing. Just sat there, stock-still. Thin sheen of perspiration had broken on his skin. She took a wild guess. Logan didn't like very much at what she was doing. She pulled back her hand. Logan grabbed her wrist before she had the time to move out of his reach.

"Nice try. Appreciate it. Come here," he gasped, pulled her on his lap and nearly smothered her with his embrace, burying his face to the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply.

He wasn't crying, but she could tell from his rigid muscles and erratic breathing that it wouldn't take much to make the tears fall. His skin against hers felt cold and clammy. That's when she noticed it. He was touching her. Bare skin on skin, and nothing happened. He wasn't writhing in pain. He wasn't in her head screaming and spewing curses. She wanted to squeal from joy, clap her hands, bounce around and kiss him, but she just sat there, snuggling closer to him.

"We got away, right?" He finally asked, breath tickling her throat.

"We got away," she affirmed. He loosened his hold from her and leaned back, eyes still closed.

"I fucking hate this…" He groaned, opening his eyes and offered her a weak smile. She answered to it with her own wild grin that spread from ear to ear.

"You touched me. You touched me and nothing bad happened."

"Yeah. Noticed that earlier. At the desert. When you hugged me."

"I touched you? Why didn't you say something?" Marie asked.

"I thought you knew," Logan said.

"Can I do something?" Marie asked shyly. Logan shrugged his shoulders, still slowly coming out of darkness that had tried to invade him. He had closed his eyes again. He could hear Marie tugging her gloves off. Then soft creak of the leather of their seat. Feel of warmth when she scooted on his lap. Hands on his face. Soft lips against his own. A kiss. His hands rose to her hair instinctively and he tried to respond, to deepen it.

What had started just as an innocent experiment, ended few minutes later. They were both flushed and panting.

"Wow…" They gasped almost simultaneously. Marie fumbled awkwardly off from his lap, keeping her eyes averted from his face.

"Thank you," she whispered. Logan reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you. Nobody's done that before. Felt great." If he was completely honest, it felt better than great. At first he had thought that he was going to have a heart attack. Then that fluttery feeling from his chest had settled to the pit of his stomach, and wonderful feel of warmth and peace had flushed over him.

"Can I do it again? Maybe not now, but…" Marie asked.

"We can do that when ever you feel like it."

"We'll arrive to the settlement soon," he said. He had been stealing quick glances of her from the corner of his eye, hoping she would ask him to stop. Hoping she would want to kiss him again. It had been a good feeling. He wanted to feel it again. Marie had been in turn dozing off, thick veil of her brown locks covering her face, and in turn keeping an eye on the scenery around them, delicate features of her face revealing nothing to his prying eyes. Logan didn't have any sexual experience, save that one kiss with her, but his body seemed to know what was good and fit for him. Before their kiss he had seen her as a possible companion, somebody to spend time with, but now his attention was slowly turning to other possibilities.

She was fully clothed, but shirt and pants she wore were tight, outlining the form of her body. Slim legs and arms, toned stomach, narrow waist, and swell of breasts. Full lips. Eyes almost too big to her face. Small gap between her front teeth.

Bloodstains and small tears on her clothes. Bruised skin. Bloodstains and huge, jagged tears on his clothes.

"Shit," he suddenly yelped. He could see the first huts of the settlement ahead and stopped the truck. Marie looked at him surprised.

"We have to change our clothes. Can't go walking around in these rags," Logan explained. There were many different styles to wear, but torn and bloodied was still the type to draw attention and raise unwanted questions.

"Here. I'll go change outside," Logan said, giving her the smallest shirt and jeans he could find from his bag. She waited until he closed the door of the truck before taking off her bloodstained shirt. For a moment she just held the shirt he had given to her, enjoying the feel of soft cloth. Shirt was old and worn, but it was clean. Black T-shirt. She pulled it on. It was too big for her, but she figured it didn't matter. Nobody would look twice a girl wearing too big shirt. Jeans were too big. She had to roll up the sleeves to keep them dragging on the ground. She wondered if he would have a belt for her. If not, she would have to keep them up with her hands, and that would be awkward.

He changed his clothes quickly, donning a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. Rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. Ever since they had installed the claws in him, skin of his forearms had been especially tender. Not sore, not itching, but it felt like all the little nerves on it were somehow more alert than the rest of his skin. He knocked on the truck's door. Waited until Marie shouted it was okay, she was fully dressed. Then climbed in.

"We have to get you some new clothes," he said, taking in her appearance. She practically drowned to the shirt and jeans he had given to her.

"Yeah. But before that, you wouldn't happen to have a belt?" She asked.

"What do you think?" Logan asked, cocking an eyebrow and turning to rummage through his bag once more. It wasn't until now that she noticed the brown belt, and huge buckle that held it on place on his waist.

"But this will be too long for you unless…" Logan muttered. One claw slid out from his hand. He cut the belt in half, and then poked few new holes in it before handing it to her.

"Here." She took it and looped it to her jeans, sighing from relief when it fit.

He tried his best not to look at the strip of the skin she had revealed when she had lifted the hem of the shirt to get the belt on its place. He had gotten a glimpse of pale skin, and even paler, hand shaped scar on her stomach. His hand had been there.

"Can I look…" He gestured towards her stomach. She fiddled with the hem of the shirt for a while, and then lifted it a bit. Clear, white imprint of his bones. Palm, five fingers. He placed his hand on top of it. She flinched a bit.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking… I just wanted that collar off and get out of there. I didn't think that I was hurting you." She didn't say a word. He took a moment, just kept his hand on her and enjoyed the soft feel of warm, living surface. Usually touching for him was related to blood and violence. This was something different. And felt almost as good as their kiss earlier.

"Yeah. I'm sorry…" He grunted, taking his both hands to the steering wheel.

His hands had been hot. Hot as coals in her fathers forge. Now those same hands were warm. His palm felt good against her skin. She nearly stopped him when he retreated and started the engine, but swallowed her disappointment fast. No use to start something they weren't ready to finish.

"This looks better…" Logan said when they stopped near the marketplace. Settlement was much smaller than the one they passed earlier. Only few permanent buildings, surrounded with small tents. Nothing that would draw the Army's attention.

"Here. Get what you need. I meet you here in two hours. That okay?" Logan asked, giving her a thick wad of cash. She stared at it, mouth hanging open. There was more money she had seen during her whole life.

"Uh… Don't you need any money?" She asked. Logan frowned.

"I told you I have enough for both of us. That's yours. Spend it as you like."

"But this is… There's so much of it."

"And it's all yours. You have two hours. Then come back to the truck."

Had Logan think things more thoroughly, their little shopping trip would have ended nicer way. But he wanted Marie to know he wasn't expecting her to turn a pretty little whore over the money he gave to her, so he thought it would be wisest to let her go on her own and spend it as she liked. Bad idea. Very bad idea. He was beginning to realize it now. Standing in the crowd, in front of a wooden platform. Slave market. And Marie was somewhere up there, among the rest of the merchandise.

_At the Slave market_

Marie had been walking around, rummaging through piles of clothes and small knick-knacks she thought she could use. Merchants sure had known their customers. After Marie had gotten everything she needed, she still had half an hour left before she was supposed to meet Logan at the truck. She had drifted little further from the main market area, in to a tent filled with jewelry. She had been admiring the rows of pendants and rings on display, when suddenly a bag was pulled over her head, and she could feel strong hands around her, dragging her somewhere. She had tried to fight. For that effort she had earned a sudden, but careful and calculated blow on the head. She had woken up shackled from a cage filled with women of all ages and shapes. She didn't know what was more disturbing, the fact that all of them seemed to be mutants, or the grey metal suppression collar around their necks.

Woman after another got bought and walked away with their new owner. Logan had stood there, on the front row nearly an hour now, trying to locate Marie, after every successful trade hoping she would be the next one to walk on the stage. It didn't happen. Instead auctioneer announced that trading would continue more privately. Only those with appropriate status would get to see the rest of the merchandise.

"Where is that other auction?" Logan asked from a man standing next to him. Man, elderly and white haired grimaced.

"You don't want to go there, son. It's not a place for decent folks…"

"What do you mean?" Logan asked.

"They sell muties," old man said.

"I thought only Army had those… What are those for?" Old man rolled his eyes.

"You're not too bright, son. Human slaves have rights. You can't treat them anyway you like. But with muties… They're just animals. Animals don't have rights. I have heard they use them in fights. Instead of roosters they throw two muties in the cage…"

"Fuck."

"That's not all. I have heard some people use them to other things. Even take them to bed. Disgusting. Filthy. Who would want an animal, when… No. That is not a place for you, son. Stay out of it," old man warned him, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing to the crowd.

They were herded like cattle, to their own private cages where they barely had the room to sit. At least their capturers had let them keep their clothes on. That wasn't much of a consolation when Marie saw what was going to happen to them.

He had stalked quietly behind the auctioneer's tent. He had found the man, negotiating with another. The other man didn't look too pleased.

"That bitch you sold me last time didn't last a week! I want my money back!" Burly looking farmer bellowed. Auctioneer shook his head.

"It isn't my fault if you use too heavy hand. And thank God it was just a mutie. Have you thought about what would have happened if it had been human?" That seemed to calm the other man a bit.

"But I still want my money back. She wasn't as durable as you promised…"

"No refunds. You break it, you pay it," auctioneer said. Other man shook his head.

"Is that a way to treat a customer?"

"Who are you going to complain? It's not like it's legal to buy a mutant. They belong to Army. Every single one of them," Auctioneer reminded his disgruntled customer. Man grimaced and turned to leave. Logan chose that moment to step out of his hiding place.

"And who the fuck are you?" Auctioneer asked. Logan waited until his customer had disappeared before speaking.

"Somebody who's quite interested of that other auction of yours."

"And what makes you so sure you meet all the necessary requirements? That one is not for all…" Auctioneer snorted. Logan crept closer and snagged a firm hold from the lapels of his jacket, pulling the shorter man up from the ground, face to face with him.

"You little prick have my wife in there. Think it's good enough reason to let me in?" He growled, baring his teeth.

"Wife? I assure you, we do not sell humans in that auction!" Auctioneer sputtered.

"And who the fuck said she was human?" Logan asked, dropping the man to the ground, letting claws ooze out from his hands. Auctioneer gasped and tried to scramble away from him, but Logan stepped on his stomach and held him in place, leaning closer. Claws hovered above auctioneer's groin.

"Can I please come and get my wife? She gets terribly upset if I start cutting people. And when she gets upset, I'll get upset. And start cutting people. Vicious cycle. You can stop it. Let me in, I'll take my wife home, and everybody's happy. We have a deal?"

Stench of fresh urine wafted in the air. Auctioneer had peed in his pants. Logan grimaced.

"Listen, you little piece of shit… Let me put it another way. You give my wife back, and I won't cut your jewels off," he murmured. Auctioneer nodded quickly.

"Anything… Just let me go."

"Good. Lead the way," Logan said and pulled him on his feet.

Auctioneer led him to the outskirts of the little settlement, to a building that looked ready to keel over from the first gust of wind.

"We'll go in from the back. That's where we keep… That's where she'll be," man explained, walking round the corner, Logan practically glued to his heels.

"You think you could stop poking me with those knives?" Auctioneer whined.

"No," Logan grunted and let the dull edge of his claws slide over his back. Man gasped and cringed.

Crowd was cheering and shouting. Floor of the arena was already slippery from blood. Air was thick from smoke. Marie watched in horror when cage after cage mutants got thrown to the arena. Some of the cages were carted out. How the hell could she have been so careless and naïve? Getting caught in the middle of a day, in plain sight?

"She's better be alright. If I find out you have cut a hair from her head, I'll make sure none of you leaves this place alive…"

"No need to threaten me!" Auctioneer squeaked and opened the door with shaky hands.

"That wasn't a threat. That was a promise," Logan said. He nearly gagged when they stepped in. He could hear the noise from the other side of the wall. He could smell blood, shit and smoke. Auctioneer fumbled with something, and suddenly lights went on, revealing small backroom, packed full with small cages. Most of them were empty.

"We started early tonight. See if your wife is in there," Auctioneer said, twitching nervously.

"How the fuck did you manage on your own all those years?" Familiar voice made her raise her head. Logan was crouching next to her cage, tired but relieved look on his face. His claws cut through the lock like it was made out of butter, and door of the cage flung open. She scooted out awkwardly. Her legs had fallen asleep and now they were itching and prickling.

"I don't give a flying fuck about your little business in here. But if I see you again, you better run. I might change my mind later," Logan hissed to a smaller man that stared at them before kneeling and scooping her to his arms.

"Come on, kid. Shopping trip is over. Which reminds me… Where is her stuff? I sent her to buy some clothes before you morons snatched her," he said to the auctioneer. Man pointed to the corner of the room.

"Those are yours?" Logan asked, eyeing three bags with suspicion. Marie nodded tiredly. Logan picked them up and they walked out.

Auctioneer nearly fainted from relief and sat to a sturdy looking wooden crate, wiping his forehead to the sleeve of his jacket. He really should keep an eye on his employees. Really should. Because you never knew what kind of loonies might come after you if you picked up the wrong person.

"Hey!" Angry shout from the door made him jump and scream. That crazy mutie was back.

"Keys to her collar. Now." Auctioneer rummaged through piles of papers and small knick-knacks strewn across the table next to him, found a set of electronic keys and threw them to Logan.

_Getting in to trouble_

Logan was awfully quiet when they walked through buzzing and whirring marketplace. When they reached the truck, he opened the door, tossed her in with her purchases like a sack of potatoes and slammed the door shut so forcibly that the sound of it made her ears ring. For a moment he just stood outside, eyeing their surroundings and then climbed to the driver's seat and started the truck.

She tried to make herself sparse, hide behind her bags. Logan's grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. He was staring holes to the windshield, small muscles on his cheeks and throat ticking and twitching. She didn't have any idea to whom he was so furious. It was reasonable assumption that he was planning the best way to gut her and dispose her body. So when he stopped the truck in the middle of nowhere, after several hours of unnerving silence, she squeaked and scurried out, trying for the best of her abilities to outrun him. She knew it was futile. Even after the Guards had beaten and shot him, half dead, he had been faster than her, pushing her forward on the scorching desert. But her body couldn't accept the defeat so easily. When he caught her and tackled her to the ground she started kicking and scratching.

It took her a while to realize nothing was happening. Logan just laid on top of her, carrying the weight of his upper body on his elbows, and stared at her.

"I guess I deserved that," he said, scratches and gouges on his face healing rapidly.

"Aren't you mad at me?" Marie asked. Logan shook his head.

"I'm mad at myself. I can't believe I was so stupid that I let those bastards get their paws on you."

"But I thought… You were so angry and didn't talk and…"

"Hush," Logan huffed and leaned closer. Close enough to brush her cheek with the tip of his nose. She could feel his chest expand when he inhaled.

"I made a mistake. Won't happen again. I promise."

"But…"

"Shut up. Can I kiss you?"

Their earlier kiss had been awkward, but sweet. Kiss they now shared was neither. It was hot, frantic and desperate, teeth gnashing together, hands grasping hair and clothing, feeding their inner forges until they were both moaning and squirming, needing more.

"Do you want to stop?" Logan asked when he came up for the air. He had to ask again before Marie realized he had actually spoken. It took a while to form a coherent answer.

"I know we should, this is so soon, but I don't want to…"

"Good…" Logan muttered against her lips, one hand sliding under her shirt while other carried his weight. Marie was licking and nibbling his lips and it would have been practically impossible to stop.

Finally she managed to get off Logan's shirt. Feel all that warm skin and rippling muscles underneath.

"Christ…" Logan hissed and shivered when she accidentally raked her nails over his forearms. Hard bulge that had been pressing against her thigh got suddenly considerably harder.

"This has to go…" Logan grabbed the hem of her shirt. She sat up so that he could slide it off from her. He laid it on the ground and lowered her back on top of it. For a moment he could just stare at her breasts. Two perfectly shaped globe, just the right size to fit under his palm. Nipples already hard, straining peaks.

He lowered his head and licked one nipple experimentally, then sucked it between his lips when she gasped and arched her back, clearly enjoying at what he was doing. All the while she was writhing and squirming he spent exploring the rest of her body with his free hand, sliding it over her skin, skimming lightly over curves and shivering muscles. Finally he encountered an obstacle. Waistband of her jeans.

"Can I…?" She heard Logan asking, and felt his fingers on her stomach, resting lightly on top of the belt that held up her jeans. She let out a nervous chuckle.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours…" She whispered, meeting his amused gaze.

"You do realize this is new to me, too?" Logan asked. She nodded, completely serious, but burst to nervous giggles. Laughter was contagious. Soon they lay on their backs, side by side. Every time they tried to turn face to face they started giggling uncontrollably.

"Fuck. We're pathetic," Logan grunted.

"I agree. Maybe we should try less talking and more action?"

"And some other time. It's getting cold," Logan said, sitting up. Sun was setting. Temperature would drop soon. They stood up and shrugged their shirts back on.

"Come on. It's safer to stay on the move during night. You can sleep while I drive," he said, taking Marie's hand to his own and they walked back to the truck. She stretched over the seat, placing her head on his thigh and sighed deep. In mere minutes she was asleep, one hand curled around his knee, other latched under his shirt, fingers curled to the waistband of his jeans. Scent of her arousal still lingered, spicing the air in the truck. Usually he avoided situations like that. Scent of other people's need and wanting made him uneasy, restless. But not Marie's. He could almost hear a soft clicking sound somewhere inside of him when it wafted to his nostrils. Like a piece of a puzzle locking in to its rightful place. A wife? No. A life.

She felt warm and relaxed. Earlier frantic need had ebbed, still glowing inside of her, making her crawl closer to Logan, fingers seeking bare skin to touch. She found it under his shirt and anchored her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, feeling his muscles tense momentarily. She closed her eyes and let dream take over. In her dream they didn't speak. They didn't have to. Logan didn't ask and she didn't have to answer, because they were already joined, melting together. Her white, scarred skin mixing with his tanned and flawless. Twirling together like strands of rope, drowning to each other. Last thing she saw were his eyes, usual brown gaining sickly, yellow tint.

"Mine…" Vicious sounding snarl shook her awake and she sat up abruptly, pulling away from him.

"Slept well?" Logan asked. Marie yawned and looked around. Sun was rising. And she could have sworn she had slept barely few minutes. Scenery around them had changed. Thick forest had replaced the dry desert.

"Just fine. Aren't you tired?" She asked, turning to look at him. Last time she had seen him actually sleep was during the sandstorm, before Hunters caught them. Logan shrugged.

"Little. But we're already close to my place and I figured we could drive there straight. Don't want to risk another incident." They had passed several patrols of Hunters during the night, but he wasn't going to tell Marie that. He didn't want her to worry.

"Can we stop for a minute?" Marie suddenly asked. Logan looked at her questioningly. She blushed slightly.

"I need to pee. Badly. Stop the truck if you don't want to mop up the seat."

"Better?" Logan asked when she climbed back to the truck.

"Much. And hungry."

"Okay. I guess we could take a short break…"

"Unfuckingbelievable. Can't we stop for five minutes without getting in to trouble?" Logan huffed, tugging the ropes that bind his hands behind his back. It was futile attempt. Surprisingly strong group of starving looking men and women had attacked them and captured them.

"And I bet they're not after our breakfast…" Marie muttered, watching when they were gathering large pile of wood, stacking it to form a platform of sorts. When one of the men stepped forth, carrying sharp looking metal rods Logan nodded.

"They want fresh meat." Marie squeaked in horror when they lit the pile of branches they had gathered. Flames stormed through dry wood.

"Don't worry. We have some time left. They will wait until the temperature is right. No use to burn us to a crisp when they can let us cook slowly…" Logan muttered eyes fixed to the fire.

He remembered another fire, years ago. His group had captured a messenger. Not even an enemy unit. After they had checked that it wasn't carrying any important messages they had roasted it and eaten it. It had been their first meal in nearly two weeks. Army had had some problems with transportation and there simply was no real food left.

"We're mutants!" Marie announced hastily when man carrying the skewers walked to them.

"Makes no difference. Meat is meat," he grunted.

"Army property," Logan said. Man spat.

"You're shitting me."

"No. I have implants, and she's pumped full of toxins. One bite and you can kiss your ass good-bye," Logan said, bending forward and releasing his claws for evidence. Man cursed softly, then turned to face his companions.

"Rotten meat. We'll have to find something else," he shouted. People looked devastated.

"We have food, in the truck," Marie said. Man looked at her and snorted.

"Dried rations? Good for animals. We need fresh meat."

"Wasn't that entertaining…" Logan whispered after the group had left and they couldn't hear their chatter any longer. He was twisting and turning, rolling on the ground, trying to loosen the ropes. He stopped when Marie whimpered and turned to look at her.

She was bending her body to a position that wasn't even possible, arching her back, tugging her ropes and dragging her hands slowly over her head. He could hear sickening, popping sound when she dislocated her shoulders. Then her hands lay on her stomach instead of her back, still tied together.

"Come here," she urged him, trying not to cry. He scooted next to her, and she started to open the ropes that tied his hands.

"How the hell did you do that?"

"I have gotten in to trouble before I met you. There was nobody who could help me. I had to learn a few tricks to get out…"

"Come on. I'll carry you back to the truck, and we won't fucking stop until we are at my place," Logan said, rubbing her back soothingly. Marie had nearly fainted when he had set her shoulders, and was now cradling her arms on her lap.

"We should tie those up for a while. Let your shoulders heal…" He took his shirt, slung it over her shoulders and made a two-way sling from it for her to carry her arms before picking her up to his arms.

_Home, sweet home_

"Home, sweet home." Marie looked around puzzled. Logan had parked the truck to a small clearing in the woods. There were no buildings, just soft looking grass and some twigs and bushes.

"Looks like nobody found it. Good…" Logan said, rubbing his hands together.

"Found what?" Marie asked. Logan smirked.

"The Bat cave. Wait here. I'll go and check it out, just in case…" Logan said, opening the door and jumping out. She watched when he walked to a small hill in the middle of the clearing. He fiddled with a pile of rocks for a moment. Suddenly she could feel the whole truck around her trembling. Logan took a few steps away from the rocks when something happened. Side of the hill started to tear open.

"It's an old bunker. Found it after I escaped from the Army," Logan explained, helping her down from the truck. Where had been a beautiful, soft-looking grass, stood now sturdy looking concrete building. Flat roof and slightly tilted walls. No windows. Only one, heavy metal door.

"But how… Where was it? What happened?" She stammered.

"Underground. This is just an entrance. There's a mechanism that makes it possible to lower it under the ground level during an attack. I use it to hide my home when I'm not around. Got tired of throwing out squatters every fucking time I came home."

"Squatters? You mean people?" Marie asked. Logan nodded.

"But they know about this place…" Logan frowned and turned to look away, clearing his throat.

"It's safe in here. Nobody knows about this place. I took care of it. Haven't seen any more people after first five went missing…"

"You killed them?" Marie whispered.

"Let's talk about something else. I'll show you around, and we can start unpacking the truck."

She had expected damp and gloomy corridors, and equally damp and gloomy small cells. What she encountered when Logan opened the door and led him underground made her gasp.

There was a corridor. It was softly lit and clean. Floor was covered with wide, polished wooden planks. Walls were painted light brown, almost white. Light came from small spotlights mounted to the ceiling. At the end of the corridor was a large, oval room. Ceiling was somewhere high above her head. Floorboards under her feet were squeaky clean. Walls were covered with light brown wooden paneling. Rows of bookshelves with books on them covered large parts of the walls. There was a cozy-looking fireplace, and two doors, one on each side of it.

"Bedroom," Logan said, opening the one on the left side of the fireplace.

"And kitchen." He pushed open the door on the right side of the fireplace.

Furniture was clearly self-made, but it was done with a skill. Every chair and table, every shelf, even the bed looked like they had rather grown than cut to their current shape. And soft glow of electric lighting illuminated it all.

"There's an underground current. It powers up the turbines and they produce electricity. Enough for lights and heating this place. And kitchen is electric. Stove, freezer, fridge."

"Have you done all of this by yourself?" Marie asked. Logan nodded, shuffling his feet.

"Bathroom's at the other end of the corridor. Come on, I'll show it to you," he said, tugging her after him.

She had expected a small closet with a sink and a toilet seat. Again she was in for a surprise. First they entered to a small room with row of benches lined against the walls. There were hooks above those benches. Again she was facing two doors.

"Toilet," Logan opened the smaller door. There was a toilet seat and a sink.

"Bathroom," he said, opening the other door. It was small, but clean. A shower, and in the middle of the room a large, sunken tub.

"Took me ages to find these tiles…" Logan said, smiling and brushing his knuckles against light green ceramic surface of the wall. He had fought a bled for every single tile. For every single machine and lamp. For every single nail that he had used to coat cold concrete surfaces with wood. And now he could finally kick back and relax. He had a home. He had transportation. He had somebody to share those with.

"So… Are you up to it?" Logan asked, swaying lightly on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. Marie tore her eyes from the lavish bathroom little reluctantly.

"Up to what?" She had never seen a place like this. Even the town hall in her home village had been a cruddy barn compared to this, and after she had taken off to the road, it had all been downhill from there.

"Will you stay with me?" Logan asked. The tone of his voice was carefully masked, but the pleading look on his face revealed his true feelings. He was terrified. Ready to kneel and beg if needed to.

"Will you let me stay?" She asked. Logan pulled her against his chest and wrapped her his arms around her, squeezing gently.

"Wouldn't have brought you here otherwise. Stay?" He spoke; face pressed against the top of her head, feel of warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"I'll stay."

She explored her new home more thoroughly while Logan carried their belongings in from the truck. Kitchen fascinated her. She had never seen those things Logan had named before. Fridge. Freezer. Electric stove? Fridge and freezer were probably for storaging food, because they were cold. Stove looked at the same time familiar, and frighteningly alien. Four cooking plates on top, and an oven underneath them. Just like the ones she had used before. But there ended the similarities between this electric device, and stoves she had used. Where she had had to keep applying wood and make sure fire kept going, but not too hot, this one looked like it would be much more complicated. It had several different buttons and switches. She wondered where Logan had gotten it. Gotten all this electric stuff. Nobody had it anymore. Nobody. Not after the war begun. They were luxuries. Only lazy mutants relied on those. Real, clean people worked hard and fair. That's why mutants were so easy to find, capture and cart away, Marie's father had told her once, when she had seen a picture of a television on a book she had been reading.

"So, I'm a lazy mutant, now. Proud of me, daddy?"

"Where did you get all this stuff?" She asked when Logan was putting away food, clothes and other belongings.

"It fell from the sky?" Logan offered, opening the freezer and lifting two huge cardboard boxes in there.

"Right."

"I fought for it. Some guy had ambushed an Army caravan with his friends. He was stupid enough to come in to the cage with me."

"Oh… What about the other stuff? Fridge, stove? That freezer?" Marie asked.

"Everything you see in here I have either made it, or fought for it." Logan started to sound a bit agitated, but she had one more question. She had to know.

"Have you ever killed anybody?" That stopped him. He turned to look at her.

"You know I have. You even helped to clean the truck after it. And when the Army had me…"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the cage. Have you ever killed anybody in there?" She clarified. Logan shook his head.

"This stuff is clean for that part. Nobody has died for this."

"Good. It wouldn't feel right to use all this if I knew it was taken from a corpse."

"Is that why you didn't make bets?" Logan asked.

"How do you know?"

"I watched you. You stood there and listened, heck, you knew the guys and knew probably what they were capable better than themselves, and you didn't use that knowledge. Pride got in the way?" Logan asked tilting his head. Marie's anger flared. Was he mocking her?

"It wouldn't have been right. I couldn't have used that money if I knew somebody died because of it!" Logan let out a low chuckle for her outburst.

"How the hell you managed to stay so fucking pure an innocent?" He turned his back to her and continued arranging various packages to the cupboards.

"And how the hell you can stand being with me in the long haul?" He continued silently when he heard Marie leaving the kitchen.

_Don't stop_

She lay in the bathtub, eyes closed. This was heaven. Logan had explained how it worked, how she could adjust the temperature of the water by turning the handle next to the faucet. There was even soap. She was sure she would soon turn to a prune, but it didn't matter. She could remember the last time she had taken a bath, and it had been a quick one. Cold water in a tin barrel, just a quick dip to get rid of most of the accumulated dust and grime before dressing up and going to work.

He sat in front of the cold fireplace. Tomorrow he would have to check the chimney if it still worked. He had used all his knowledge and lots of guessing before he had managed to build a system that filtered practically all warmth and small particles from the smoke, so that only relatively cool steam was released to surface. No use to hide your house if the smoke gave up its location. He lay down on the floor, listening small creaks and cracks his spine made. He was home. And if everything went as he planned, he wouldn't have to leave ever. No more running around and looking over your shoulder. No more waking up in the middle of the night, ears straining, trying to catch even the smallest of the sounds. He had smelt first signs of the winter in the wind couple days ago. Not the kind of winter they had before the war. There wouldn't be snow. It wouldn't even get cold. Weather would be hot and dry. But when it was over… He glanced towards the kitchen. There had been plant seeds in the truck. Grain and some vegetables. He wasn't a farmer, but he was quite sure he would figure out how to make them grow. All he had to do was to clear the land around the bunker.

Soft rap against the doorframe woke her from her slumber just in time before she slid under the surface of the soapy water. She sat up, then promptly slid back down until soapy suds floating on the surface of the water covered her from neck down. Door opened and Logan stepped in.

"Brought you some towels." He placed them to the bench next to the tub. Then he just stood there, staring at her.

"What?" She was still slightly angry. And little unsure of how he felt.

"Nothing," he said, turned and left, closing the door.

She was angry. No wonder. He had only been genuinely amazed that people like her still existed, but words had left his mouth in a wrong way. And now she thought he was laughing at her.

"Shit." He had to figure out a way to make her understand. He wasn't exactly well known and appraised for his ability to apologize.

She was in the shower, rinsing off the remnants of the soap when Logan walked in again. He took the towels from the bench and sat on it.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Being Peeping-Tom?" Marie asked, trying to cover her body with her hands.

"No. The earlier. In the kitchen. I wasn't laughing at you. I'm sorry if it sounded like that."

"Uh… Apology accepted. Could you give me a towel?"

"Why? There's nothing I haven't seen before."

He had been so determined to apologize, that he really hadn't even noticed her lack of clothing. Now he stood up, discarded the towels to the bench and walked to her.

"Don't… Give me a towel…" She wasn't even trying to cover her private parts. She was trying to hide the scars. He took her hands and led her away from the shower. Angry bruises on her shoulders enhanced the scars on there. Rest of those were mere white patches on her pale, soft skin.

"I'm sorry for putting them on you, but you're not ugly," he said, crouching in front of her and nuzzling his face against the palm print on her stomach. His hands went around her waist and secured her there when she tried to escape.

She wanted to hide. More than anything she wanted to hide her disfigured, scarred skin. Logan wasn't letting her.

"Could you please give me a towel?" She asked, voice trembling.

"No. I want to look at you. I want to touch you. Let me?" He spoke against the skin of her stomach.

"You're so soft and beautiful…" she hid her face to her palms in utter humiliation. Nobody, nobody had touched her like this before. Nobody had ever seen the full extent of her injuries. Earlier, in the desert she had been blinded by her need to feel and touch, but now, in here, all she could think about was that Logan had to be lying. Nobody could look at her and say those words. Nobody could call something so ugly soft and beautiful.

Logan turned her gently around, placing a kiss to her lower back, giving the scar there a small, quick lick. Earlier sweat, dust and grime had masked her scent and taste of her skin nearly completely, but now he could smell only vanilla and peppermint. Taste only vanilla mixing with salt and copper. He didn't know, but he was quite positive that those were combinations he wouldn't find anywhere else. They belonged to Marie. He let go of her right hip and touched the scar that run over her shoulder blades, pausing in the middle. Vertebrae. Some sort of angel had been watching over her that night. Her shoulder blades were little higher than her vertebrae, and skin on top of it was flawless. Untouched. Had his smoldering bones touched there he could have easily crippled her. He placed a kiss to there, sending silent thank you for what ever higher deity that had given them some mercy that night. He turned her around again. She wasn't hiding behind her hands anymore, but deep blush colored her cheeks.

"Why do you do this?" She managed to squeak. Logan's eyes locked to hers. Small golden flecks swimming in brown pools.

"It feels so good to be like this. To touch you. I haven't… I don't touch people. Not like this. Do you want me to stop?" she wanted to say yes. One small word, and he would have given her a towel. She could have left. She could have put on her clothes. A safe shield from people's gazes.

"Don't stop."

She had tried to sound sure and mature. Her voice betrayed her. She was shivering from standing so long wet from the shower. Words came out as trembling as her earlier plea for a towel.

"We don't have to… I'm not going to force you…" Logan started. She silenced him by placing a kiss to his lips.

"I'm cold."

"I'll warm you up…" Logan whispered smiling; reaching for a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders before taking another and started toweling her long locks dry.

She brushed his face with her fingertips, drawing a path from his eyebrows down to his cheeks and from there to his neck, leaning closer to kiss him again. Kiss grew more bolder when he let the towel slide to the floor and replaced it with his bare fingers, wrapping the silky, damp strands of her hair around them, massaging her scalp lightly. She parted her lips instinctively, and his tongue licked a quick taste from hers. They were both trembling, and out of breath.

"Bedroom?" Logan asked.

"Bedroom," she affirmed. She wanted to continue. To undress him and explore his body like he had done to her. Cold and wet floor of the bathroom was even less practical and appealing than the open desert.

"Take your clothes off," Marie asked. He was more than willing to comply. He wanted to feel her bare skin against his, feel those soft corves pressing against him. Let her scent rub on him. Let his scent rub on her. He undressed quickly and lay on the bed next to her.

"Can I touch you?" Marie asked.

"I want you to…" His voice broke to incoherent murmur when she let her nails graze his forearm.

"Don't…" He hissed and took a hold from her wrist.

"Did it hurt?"

"No. But don't."

"Okay…"

She concentrated to other parts of him more thoroughly, touching, watching and tasting every inch of him. All the while he continued his interrupted expedition on her body, paying serious attention every time she had to stop and moan, memorizing those spots for future use. Small room was soon filled with the scents of their arousals. Finally he had to give up. He could only lay under her and try to remember how to breathe. He hadn't experienced anything like this before. Gentle kisses and touches all over his body, her skin whispering over his like softest silk.

"Oh, God…" Surprisingly strong fingers wrapped around his erect cock, stroking it little hesitantly, feeling the shaft, sliding over the weeping head. Soon movements got bolder. Strange, yet somehow familiar tightening feeling started to grow at the pit of his stomach.

"Stop…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…"

Logan chuckled softly.

"It didn't hurt. Let me show you…" He turned on his side and pushed Marie on her back, letting his gaze sweep over her body before he bent his head and kissed her, letting his hand wander to her breasts. Fingers teased her already hard nipples and she mewled, rubbing her thighs together.

"Feels good?" She could only nod and gasp when he replaced his hand with his mouth, sucking, licking and nibbling the skin, lips finally closing around one nipple while his hand traveled lower. His fingers brushed over her lower curls. Questioning gaze met her eyes.

"Can I?" She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to her breasts.

"Yes…"

She parted her legs to grant him better access. One finger parted her already slick folds carefully, diving deeper. Slow and light caresses that made her squirm and grasp his hair, his shoulders, and sheets. Anything. She was nearly sobbing when he found her core, sliding that finger in and pumping it in and out. She needed more.

"Please…"

"Can we…? Can I…?"

"I want you inside of me."

He crawled between her legs, lying carefully on top of her. His cock slid between her folds, nice and warm.

"Am I too heavy?" He asked. He wasn't a small man, and seeing her under him, almost pixie-like creature made him worried.

"No… Oh…" She wrapped her legs around his waist, and the tip of his cock sunk in to her, making them both gasp in unison. She pulled him closer, feeling him sliding deeper. At first it felt strange, even painful. Something was stretching and tearing inside of her. She bit her lip when he moved, stifling a whimper that tried to escape.

She was scorching hot and tight, pulsing around him. He could smell blood. Not much of it, but it was enough to start to worry.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked, rising on his elbows. Marie shook her head.

"Just a little. But I think it's supposed to be like that on the first time. Just… Just… Ah!" He had felt her tensing under him while she spoke. Now she pulled him down on her with sudden movement, and he could feel his whole length sinking in to her.

"Marie?"

"I'm fine. Stay still for a while…"

It was already getting better. That pinching and tearing feeling had disappeared. Only small soreness and ache lingered. He was exactly where she needed him to be. Hard, solid column in her core.

"How about we both try to relax and breath?" Logan suggested. She hadn't noticed it earlier, but Logan was actually shivering like a leaf, and he looked a bit pale.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, trying to back away from her.

"Don't go. Stay." She wrapped her hands around him, urging him to lie on top of her.

"I want you there. I want to feel you."

"Let me go. Now," Logan growled, face only inches from hers, nearly baring his teeth.

_Real name_

She couldn't understand what had happened. It had been little awkward and clumsy. She hadn't even expected more. But it had started to feel better. Then suddenly she was face to face with a complete stranger. Angry and scared man. As soon as she had let go of Logan, he had gotten up and walked out from the bedroom. She wasn't sure if she should follow him. If he wanted he to follow him.

What the fuck had possessed him to think he would be a fit company to anybody? What had made him think he could handle being close to somebody? That he could be gentle and caring? That he could have something so clean and good and beautiful in his life? That he could have a life?

"You're nothing more than a bunch of fucking animals. After we are through with you, you will still be a bunch of filthy animals, but you will be useful to us. Useful to our cause."

He still remembered that day. His first day in the training. He had been ten years old. Much younger than others in his unit. Trainer had made them beat the shit out of each other. Guards had been watching and cheering. After it was over, he had been the last one standing. Trainer had walked to him, huge hulking figure towering over him.

"Fucking runt! Get down!" Hard blow to his cheek had sent him sprawled on the ground. It had continued for weeks. Finally they had understood. They were nothing more than animals. After he had escaped it had taken years to believe he could be something more. Maybe even human, if he tried hard enough.

And now he had gotten rock-solid proof of his real nature. Real human wouldn't have had the same kind of urges that he had. Real human wouldn't have gotten more excited after smelling blood. Real human wouldn't have wanted to taste it. Real human wouldn't have wanted to bite. Real human wouldn't have wanted to claim her so harshly as he had wanted.

She eased out of the bed as soon as she heard it. Small gasp from the living room. Logan was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, hands curled around his knees, face hidden behind his forearms.

"Logan?"

"Wolverine."

"What?"

"Wolverine. That's my real name. Wolverine."

"What happened?" Marie asked, kneeling next to him. She tried to get closer; to wrap her arms around him, but Logan shrugged her off.

"You don't want to do that." His voice came out strangled.

"Why? I like touching you," Marie tried to assure him, sliding her palm over his back.

"Why?" Logan had lifted his head, and was staring at her, eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring. Gauging her reactions.

"I like you. I think… I think that you like me too. And I want to see if we could have something more…" Logan's derisive snort interrupted her.

"Something more? Love? Maybe a nice little family? Few kiddies running around? Nice and cozy?" He spat every word out like it was poison. And poison it was to Marie. She couldn't understand his behavior.

"Why are you being so mean? I thought you liked it, too."

"Yeah. I liked it…" Logan grunted, releasing his knees.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Go back to bed. I'll sleep out here."

"No. I want to know what's wrong. Did I do something to upset you or…"

"No. You didn't. Go back to bed, okay?" Logan said. He was starting to crack, she could tell.

"Logan…" She reached with her hand, placing it on his knee. Logan bolted on his feet.

"I freaked out! Okay? I don't do this! I don't walk around touching and kissing and hugging people! I don't know how to deal with it! Okay?"

"Do you think it's somehow easier to me? I'm a fucking ugly freak! But you made me feel better. Like those scars didn't really matter."

"They don't matter," Logan whispered with a raspy voice.

"But this does. This is what I am. An animal…" He continued.

"And I have no business with the likes of you."

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Then one question rose to her mind, making her lips tremble.

"Are you throwing me out?"

"I should. You'd do better without me. I'm no fit company."

"Fine. I'll go and pack my stuff… It's still mine, right? The clothes and…" She stammered, lump in her throat making it hard to speak.

"Go to sleep. There's a settlement near by. About day's journey. I'll take you there tomorrow. Those clothes are yours. I'll give you enough money to get by until you find a job."

She walked numbly to the bedroom. Sleep? After what had happened? She lay on the bed crawling under the blanket. It really had been too good to be true.

"Stupid. Stupid." Nobody cares about mutants. Not even other mutants.

"Better learn it little late than never…" She closed her eyes. Willed sleep to come. For a while she lay there, rigid, not breathing. Then tears came. Silent sobs made her curl deeper under the covers.

He was in the kitchen, getting dressed up. He had really fucked this up. But what else you could expect from somebody as fucked up as him? His left hand rose, fingers rubbing his cheek just under his eye. Partially expecting to feel cold metal. ID tag. They had welded it to his skull, leaving a small portion of it above his skin. Name and series of numbers. It had been a bitch to cut out, but he had finally made it. Other units had gotten tattoos, but his mutation had eaten the ink faster than they could apply it. Scent of her tears pulled him out from his memories.

"Shit." Now he had made Marie cry. Couldn't he get anything right?

Mattress shifted and bedclothes rustled.

"Leave me alone."

"Marie…" Hand landed on her shoulder and turned her on her back. She kept her eyes closed.

"Try to understand. Things I did… They messed me up. It took years to figure out how to live like a normal person. When we… When we started kissing, it was good. You have no idea how good it felt. But then… This all happened so quickly. Too quick. Nobody's cared for me before. I haven't cared for anybody before. I'm scared at what will happen."

"So you choose to run and hide rather than find it out?" Marie asked, opening her eyes.

"Like I said, this is new to me too. I have been alone from since I was twelve. Scared of people. Trapped in this poisonous body. Now I finally found somebody who I wasn't afraid, and you're kicking me out?"

"We really are pathetic if we let this end," Marie said. Logan swallowed.

"You think we should try again?" He asked.

"Don't you?" Marie asked. He had to think his answer for a while. It had to come out right. Finally he settled to the simplest possible solution.

"Yeah. I think it would be a good idea. But…" He held up his hands when she sat up and scooted closer him.

"I'll sleep in the living room. I'm not ready for… I'm not ready for more."

_Just a bath_

"So, what do we do now?" Marie asked. They had woken up, and were sitting in the kitchen. Logan had surprised her again. He had presented her curious looking black, hot liquid. Coffee. She knew tea, but coffee she had never tasted before. It tasted bitter, but yet something in it tickled her taste buds like nothing had before.

"I have to fix up the truck."

"What's wrong with it?" Marie asked, taking a careful sip from the steaming cup.

"Everything. Have to strip it bare and build it back from the scratch. Right now it screams 'Army Property'."

"Can I help?" She asked. Logan tilted his head.

"I don't know. Know anything about trucks?"

"No. But I have worked in a garage. Few years ago. I was painting cars."

It was a long and tiring day. First they had driven the truck to an underground garage. Then they had started working on it. Even though garage was well equipped, at the end of the day they had only managed to remove truck's outer shell, armored plates that shielded its cargo and passengers from bullets.

"Those bastards weigh a ton!" Marie panted, sitting on a workbench. She watched as Logan extracted the last plate and dragged it to the side, bare skin of his upper body gleaming from sweat and grease, muscles rippling and bulging from exertion.

"Tomorrow we'll start with the frame. Lower it a little and I was thinking we could turn the lorry enclosed. But that's tomorrow. I'm fucking too old for this shit…" Logan groaned, wiping his face with the remains of his T-shirt.

"You're not too old," Marie giggled.

"Yeah. I am. I was one of the first Destroyers ever made," Logan grunted, completely serious.

"But that's… That's not possible!" Marie gasped.

"I was eight years when I manifested. Two years before the War begun. They carted me to training when I was eleven."

"That would make you… How old it would make you?" Marie asked, scrunching her forehead.

"Close to hundred years."

"You don't look that old."

"Without the army I would probably look like eleven. My mutation prevents me from aging. They suppressed it, to keep me growing until I was big and strong enough for their purposes," Logan said. Marie shivered. Suddenly the godlike body next to hers didn't look so appealing and arousing anymore.

"First couple weeks I was sick like a dog. It felt horrible. Then I got used to it. In a way I'm glad at that it happened," Logan continued.

"You're happy that Army caught you?" Marie whispered, not believing her ears.

"Without them I would still be a kid. Grown man in a kid's body. And I have a feeling I would be even more messed up than I already am…" For a moment they sat side by side in silence.

"So, that's about it. Lets go and get cleaned up. I'm hungry," Logan said, hopping down from the bench.

"I think I'll take a bath," Marie said, stretching her arms and legs while they walked towards living quarters of Logan's lair as she had started to call it.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Logan asked.

"Didn't you want to keep some distance between us?" Marie asked puzzled.

"It's just a bath, Marie."

They washed most of the grit and filth off in the shower while they waited the tub to fill.

"Let me help you with that…" Logan said, taking the soap from Marie when she tried to reach her back. His soapy hands slid over her skin, fingers massaging sore and tired muscles. She nearly fell to asleep under Logan's ministrations.

"That feels good," she moaned, closing her eyes.

"Yeah… I'll go and get us something to eat. You just hop in the tub…" Logan's voice was little hoarse, but she thought nothing out of it. They were both just tired. Eating in the tub proved to be a good idea. Some tinned vegetables, dried, salted fish, and dried fruits and nuts for dessert. They were both too tired to cook.

"I think I might never get out of here…"

"Soon we have to. Water's cooling down," Logan murmured, leaning to the brim of the tub, head thrown backwards, eyes closed.

"Or we could add more hot water," Marie suggested scooting closer to the faucet. Her legs brushed against Logan's and they both flinched slightly.

"Shit…" Logan hissed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Just remembered that I was going to check the chimney today. Forgot all about it…"

"Can't you do it tomorrow?" Marie asked.

"Yeah. I guess I can. It's not like we don't have time," Logan said smiling lightly and reached for the drain at the bottom of the tub, opening it.

"Come on, get out of there for a minute," he said, helping Marie getting up from the tub. She stood at the brim of it, shivering. Logan plugged the drain and started to fill the tub again.

"Now, where did I put it…" He muttered, rummaging through cabinet that stood next to the tub.

"There." He took out a small bottle made of glass. There was yellow, almost golden liquid inside of it.

"Honey and beeswax," he said opening the faucet and adjusting it little warmer than their earlier bath, pouring some of the liquid in to the water.

"You worked pretty hard. You will be sore in the morning. This should help you to relax," he explained when they lowered themselves back to the tub.

Logan had been right. She already felt her muscles start to stiffen when she lay on the bed. Scent of honey wafting around her, and soft feeling it left on her skin made it little better. She couldn't remember the last time her skin had felt so pure and warm. It was practically glowing in the dim light the lamps provided to the bedroom. She had expected it to leave a sticky surface, but Logan had explained that hot water helped the honey to soak in to her skin, leaving only very thin layer of beeswax to the surface. Both honey and wax contained pain-relieving substances. She closed her eyes, small smile tugging the corners of her mouth. She had thought earlier, in the garage that it would be impossible for Logan to look any more attractive, sweat beading on his skin and muscles straining, but after they had gotten out of the tub she had nearly swallowed her tongue. Honey and wax coating had enhanced his already tanned skin, and helped to outline every muscle, tendon and bone in his body. She remembered Logan mentioning that he had enhanced senses and she blushed slightly. He most likely had been able to smell her reaction to him.

He curled on the mattress he had spread in front of the fireplace. He really hadn't needed that last part of their bath. He could have drawn it just for Marie and let her enjoy it alone. At first he had intended to do so. But seeing her, immersed in the water, her nostrils flaring lightly, eyes closed and whole body relaxed, he had been unable to resist. Scent of honey and beeswax still clung to his skin. Same scent wafted from the bedroom where she slept. His lids felt heavy, but he didn't want to sleep. Not yet. It felt so good just lay in peace and listen the small sounds she made in her sleep. She was a quiet sleeper. Hardly breathing, shifting only now and then and murmuring in her sleep so quietly that even his superior hearing couldn't catch the meaning of those words she spoke.

He wanted to go to there. Lay in the bed next to her. Keep her close. But it was better this way. Better to wait, and learn. Earlier fiasco of their attempted lovemaking made him almost blush, something he never did. It really had been too soon. Even if their bodies didn't agree with their minds. After their bath it had been quite evident how much she wanted him. And for a moment he had pondered weather to take her in the bathroom, or in the bedroom. Soft golden glow on her skin, aroma of her arousal mixing with honey. Half hooded eyes scanning his body hungrily.

"Fuck." He sat up, gaze shifting from the fireplace to the closed bedroom door.

"Hi. What's the matter?" She asked, surprised to see Logan standing at the doorstep, black, woolen quilt wrapped around his shoulders.

"Can I sleep with you?" He asked.

"We already shared a bath. I don't see why it would be a problem," Marie said, lifting a blanket she lay under and patting the empty space on the bed next to her. Logan suppressed a growl that threatened to escape. She slept nude, just like him.

"Do you want me to put on some clothes?" He asked. Marie shook her head.

"Just come to bed."

And it was only natural to crawl under the same blanket and pull her close, her back against his chest, buttocks against his crotch, legs tangling together with his.

_Escape_

Marie woke up alone. She stretched carefully and moaned softly when every muscle protested. Empty space beside her was already cold. She sat up and rubbed her eyes little groggily. Yawned and stretched again, quilt falling from her shoulders and pooling around her hips.

"Good morning." Scent of coffee wafted to her nose. Logan was standing at the doorstep, leaning against the doorframe, holding a ceramic cup in his hand.

"What have you been doing?" Marie asked, taking in his appearance. Covered in black soot from head to toe, wearing worn and tattered clothes.

"Checked the chimney. Was going to start with the truck next. Coffee?" Logan asked, lifting his cup. Marie nodded.

"Pot's in the kitchen. Help yourself. There's bread and meat, too if you're hungry. I'll be in the garage," Logan said, eyes wandering briefly over her exposed body before he turned and left.

He had woken up few hours ago, still nestled against Marie's warmth, face buried against the back of her neck. Scent of honey, sleep and ever-present slight arousal had first made him nuzzle closer to her and close his eyes. He had given her shoulder a careful lick. A quick one. But not quick enough to fool his body. He had gotten up reluctantly, before little stirring in his crotch would have turned to a problem.

Cold shower had helped him to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep. Cup of coffee later he had been inside of the chimney, scraping his elbows and banging his head in the darkness. He wasn't at ease with narrow, enclosed spaces, but it had to be done. Leaving the chimney unchecked was asking for trouble. Luckily everything had been okay, and he could crawl out from there when he heard Marie waking up.

Now he was practically running from her. Running from the sight of her bare skin and sleep tousled appearance before his screaming instincts made him to crawl back to bed with her. He had taken her virginity and they had slept together, but it didn't change the fact that he needed more time. More time to get used to her before they took this to a deeper level.

She dressed up and ate her breakfast quickly. Then she followed Logan to the garage with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Logan was practically assaulting their truck, tearing it to pieces with his bare hands. Feral gleam in his eyes, panting harshly, cutting the frame with his claws rather than using any of the tools that lay scattered on the floor. She sat on the workbench, deciding it was safer to observe than to try to help him.

It took him a while to realize that he was being watched. Marie. Coffee. Honey. Curiosity. Hint of fear. The last one made him stop and retract the claws.

"Slept well?" He had intended it as a polite question. It came out more like a growl, an interlude to interrogation. Scent of fear hitched up a notch, but when he turned to look at her, it didn't show on her posture. She sat relaxed, taking a sip from her coffee and smiled.

"Better than well. You?" She asked.

"Fine. You ate already?" He asked, raking fingers through tangled mess of his hair, sweeping stray strands back from his forehead. His fingers left greasy, black smudges above his brows. He stepped closer to Marie. More fear. He tilted his head.

"Are you afraid?" Marie wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Afraid? What the hell was Logan talking about?

"I'm not afraid. I just thought it would be better to stay out of your way…" She didn't get to finish her sentence. Logan grabbed her arm and yanked hard, sending her flying through the air. She collided against the truck and slid to floor. Furious growl made her ears ring. Sound of scuffle made her ignore the pain on her side and she sat up.

A Destroyer. A fucking Destroyer. A mutant with the ability to turn invisible. How the hell he had missed it this long was a complete mystery to Logan. Now that he had spotted it, the presence of it was as clear as a day for him. Disgusting stench of fear, hunger and desperation told him exactly where it was. Claws tore their way out as he struck. He managed to graze his unwanted guest, and shock of it made it loose it's cover.

It was a tall woman. Taller than Logan. Completely naked. Some letters and numbers tattooed to her cheek. As Marie watched, woman's face started to melt. Skin, bones and muscles shifting and flowing. Before her transformation was complete, Logan kneed her to her stomach, and when she toppled over he decapitated her with a swift slice of his claws.

"Shit, shit, shit…" she had nearly gagged when disfigured head rolled past her. Now Logan was running after it, spewing curses. He picked it up. Sliced the skull open, splattering brain matter over his clothes. Claws retracted and he discarded the one half, turning the other over like a bowl and started scooping out what was left of the brain. Finally he seemed to find what he was looking for. Something small and metallic. He dropped the remains of the skull and lifted the item to closer inspection. After a moment he let out a low groan, almost a whimper.

"We have to leave. Now."

"Take this." Logan handed her a backpack. It was quite heavy, but once she got it on her shoulders, and straps secured around her waist it was relatively easy to carry. Logan carried a backpack much similar to hers. In addition he had dug up an array of weapons, small firearms, and strapped them to his sides and thighs. Five all in all.

"What just happened?" Marie asked. Now she was genuinely afraid.

"That fucker had been tagging along with us the whole fucking time. Tracking chip in her was still active. When I killed her it triggered an alarm, and now every fucking unit within hundred kilometers will be coming to see what happened. We have to get out of here before they arrive." She wasn't the only one afraid. Logan seemed to be terrified.

"Will we get away in time?" Marie asked when they run towards the stairs. Logan stopped at the bottom of them, and opened a small box attached to the wall, flicking down a row of switches.

"I don't know. It depends… If she was a runaway, we have time. If she was still in active duty… We may have company waiting for us when we get to surface."

"Stay behind me," Logan whispered when they stopped behind the door that blocked the front entrance to the bunker. He opened the door carefully, scanning their surroundings. Forest was quiet. No signs of intruders. He let out a shaky breath.

"We got lucky. Nobody's here, yet."

They had been running for several hours. Logan had kept steady pace, choosing paths that were almost invisible to Marie's eyes. She was out of breath, exhausted. Backpack weighed her down and her knees were trembling. Soon after they had left she had heard explosions from the direction of the bunker. Logan had flinched slightly.

"Easy come, easy go…" She had heard him grunt with a bitter voice. He had blown up his home.

Terrain around them changed abruptly. First she was running through a thicket, avoiding small branches and trying to stay on her feet. Then suddenly she was running on soft sand, open desert around her. She couldn't see Logan anywhere. Just few minutes ago he had been rustling in front of her in the bushes. She slowed down and threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Thick, almost impenetrable barrier of thorny bushes. Her own footsteps over the sand. No Logan. She stopped running. Should she wait? Should she go back and look for him? Or should she keep running? And where the hell would she run? She was saved from making a decision when Logan stumbled out from the woods, followed by a feral looking man wearing a black uniform of a Destroyer.

Man crouched to a fighting stance in front of Logan, long metal claws sliding out from the tips of his fingers. She half expected Logan to mirror his actions. Instead Logan pulled a gun and shot the man. Then he holstered the gun and jogged to Marie.

"We can rest for a while. He was alone. There's some food and water in your backpack. Don't eat too much."

She sat down, shrugged the backpack off from her shoulders and opened it. Clothes, few bottles of water and a selection of energy bars. She took out a bottle of water and two bars, offering the other to Logan. He shook his head, pacing restlessly back and forth, sweeping their surroundings with his gaze.

"I'll eat later."

If there was such thing as later. Remains of the bunker were probably already crawling with Destroyers and Hunters. Ready to tear him and Marie to shreds. Every Destroyer was linked to other Destroyers with a silicon chip that was implanted somewhere in their body, usually close to the brain. Chip triggered and started to send out a signal when Destroyer died, informing other Destroyers about a possible breach on the line, drawing them to close the gap before the enemy got through. Now he had triggered two chips. They were screwed.

"Half of the Army will be coming this way. We have to get to the settlement before they reach us. Out here we're just two muties. Very expendable. In settlement they have to work more carefully, watch out for other people. Real people. We can hide there until they give up." Logan spoke. He was still pacing, every muscle coiled, and ready to bounce. He was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"With the truck we would have been there by nightfall. Now… I could make it, be there tomorrow morning. With you… We move slower. Two days. It might be enough. Better be enough…" He was mumbling more to himself than to her.

"What if I stay here? Hide, and you go to settlement, find a new car and come to get me?" Marie suggested.

"No. And we have to get moving. Now," Logan said, pulling her on her feet. She stumbled a little, trying to sort straps of the backpack.

"Forget it. Run," Logan said, taking the backpack from her and pushing her to the right direction. She heard rustle of a Velcro, then a click. She turned to look. Logan was crouching on the ground, gun pointed towards the edge of the woods. He tilted his head slightly; keeping his eyes trained to the bushes and spoke with a quiet voice.

"Run." Now she heard it too. Dry branches snapping. Shouted commands. Inhumane growls. Half of the Army had arrived.

She was running, dry, and hot wind blowing against her face. She had been running quite some time now. Long enough that the sound of guns behind her had quieted. Setting sun was coloring the sand and sky blood red. She could only hope it wasn't an omen of things to come.

There had been ten of them. Two Destroyers escorted with eight Guards. He had shot Guards before they had the time to react. Then he had to discard his gun. Destroyers had closed in on him. Fresh from assembly line, he noticed. Either of them got real experience or knowledge, but their eagerness and bloodlust matched with his. One of them had nasty looking circular blades attached to its hands. The other was wearing a some sort of visor over its eyes.

The one with the blades attacked first, charging towards Logan blades spinning. He dodged it easily, but when he moved the other Destroyer sent a scorching hot beam towards him from the visor. It grazed his side, eating away skin and muscle, revealing his metal-coated ribs. Pain of it forced the claws out from his knuckles. The one with the blades took another attempt, lingering bit too long close to Logan, and he managed to lop off its hands. One threat taken care of. Visored one was trickier. It kept out of his reach, blasting him with rays every time he tried to attack.

"Fucking idiot. That's what I am…" He muttered when they danced around each other. He reached for the gun strapped to his thigh. Took it and shot his assailant. Then turned and finished the other Destroyer that was writhing on the ground, cradling the stubs of its hands against its chest.

For a moment he had gotten lost to the heat of the battle. Field units rarely carried guns. They usually relied fully to their personal weaponry. It wasn't before after his escape that he acquired firearms, and skill to use them.

"And two more alarms… Have to remember to leave next ones alive…" He holstered the gun, then picked up the one he had thrown away when Destroyers had attacked, putting it to a holster strapped to his lower back. It would be useless until he cleaned the sand out of it.

For a moment he just stood there, listening. Usual sounds of the forest, small animals scurrying around, leaves rustling in the wind. No incoming enemies. He turned and started to jog to the direction he had urged Marie to run. He could see her in the distance, small shimmering form, outlined by the setting sun.

_There's no fucking home_

It was already dark when he caught her. She had stopped running. She lay on the ground, hardly breathing, shivers wracking her whole body. Dehydration. He crouched next to her and shrugged off his backpack, opened it and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Wake up, kid." She moaned softly when he gathered her to his arms and placed the bottle against her lips, pouring just a trickle of water in her mouth.

"Time to wake up, Marie. We have to keep moving," he muttered, letting go of the bottle when she grabbed it.

"I'm too tired… Can I sleep for a while…" She rasped, taking a long pull from the water.

"Easy… Drink slowly. We can't stop. Not yet. Have to keep moving. We can sleep after we reach the settlement." He couldn't smell or hear anybody except him and Marie, but that didn't mean a thing. He hadn't smelled the Destroyer that had been hiding in the truck, either. Marie started to sputter and cough. He took the bottle from her, screwed the cap back on and slid it to the backpack.

"I'm still thirsty…"

"And you will get sick if you drink any more. We'll stop later and you can have some more. Come on, get up…" Logan said, standing up and pulling her after him.

She was sick and tired, and Logan was being mean to her. All she wanted to do was to drink some more, and take a little nap. Now he was running, and dragging her along like a rag doll. Couldn't he see how exhausted she was? She wanted to stop. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to cry. Because she knew Logan was right. They had no time to stop. So she did her best, willing her feet to obey and keep in pace with Logan. Her brave attempt was cut short when a loose rock rolled away from under her heel. She stumbled; hand still clasped to Logan's, and then fell on her knees with a startled shriek.

"I said we could stop later…" Logan growled. She couldn't hold back her tears anymore. They came accompanied by an agonized wail.

"Just because you can do it, doesn't mean that I can! I'm not some build-up super-weapon! I'm just me! Just an ordinary, not so durable mutant!"

"And guess how happy I am about that?" Logan whispered, crouching in front of her, his back turned towards her. He had shrugged off his backpack.

"Put this on and hop on to my back," he said, tossing the backpack to Marie.

"There's a gun in here…" She sniffled.

"Safety is on. Don't worry about it. Hop on. I'll carry you. At least for a while."

She weighed next to nothing. Small hands clasped around his throat, legs wrapped to his waist. Yet she was big enough to throw him off balance. Carrying her was slowing him down. Soft breasts pressed against his back and warm breath tickling the side of his throat weren't helping matters either. He had to concentrate, but his thoughts kept drifting to much more pleasant scenarios when he was supposed to think up clever plans how to loose possible pursuers from their tracks.

"I think I'm going to be sick…"

"No, you're not."

"My head hurts… I want to sleep…"

"Stop whining and hold on."

"I want to go home…"

"There's no fucking home."

"Can we stop and rest?"

"No."

For a while Marie had been bickering and whining. He had been relieved for that. It had distracted him from his urge to throw her down and fuck her, but now she had been awfully quiet. Her grip around his throat started to loosen. He had to stop and lean forward to keep her falling from his back.

"Marie?" No answer. She was sleeping.

"Kid?" He crouched down and let her slide off from his back. She fell to a boneless heap to the ground.

"Shit." Quick scan of their surroundings revealed nothing threatening. He decided to let her sleep for a while. He sat next to her, taking the backpack off from her and rummaged through it. Three full bottles of water. Ten energy bars. She would need all the water. He took one bar, closed the backpack and tucked it under her head. Wasn't the softest possible pillow, but it was better than nothing.

Disgusting stench of his own sweat and blood made him strip off his ruined shirt. For a moment he stared at the backpack longingly. Then shook his head. She would need all the water. He scooped handful of sand and rubbed it over his skin. Grains would at least rub off the dried blood, and he wouldn't feel so slippery and sticky anymore. He gave his hair the same treatment. Dust would dry off at least some of the sweat that trickled down his forehead, making his eyes sting.

It was so goddamned easy to fall back to old behavior patterns, that it was scary. In the field you learned to get by with what you had. For years he had had the luxury of choosing with what to get by. Yet now he didn't have any difficulties to accommodate to the life without everyday necessities. Blowing up the bunker had stung for a moment, but now he felt almost relieved that he had gotten rid of it. One more burden less to take care of.

His hand landed on Marie's shoulder. Small, warm and alive. Something to take care of. A tangible link to the real world. She would keep him in the land of the living. Separate him from the Destroyers. But to do that she would have to stay well and alive. He would have to take better care of her. As she herself had said it, she wasn't as durable as Logan. Had she understood what he had meant when he told her he was happy about it? To him it meant she was free. Pure from the taint he carried inside of him.

"Time to wake up, kid…" Somebody was shaking her.

"Wake up." That somebody sure was persistent. She tried to crawl away from the prodding finger that was jabbing her ribs. That finger turned to a hand that grabbed her elbow and wrestled her to a seated position, forcing her to open her eyes. Logan.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. She smacked her dry lips, and blinked couple of times.

"Like shit. Better than before. Thanks for letting me sleep."

"It's okay. I know I'm being an asshole. Sorry about that. Here. Drink some," Logan said, pushing a bottle of water to her hand before standing up. It was warm and stale, but nothing had felt as good in long time, than that small sip of water flowing down her parched throat. She took another gulp, then Logan snatched the bottle from her, closing the cap and putting it back to backpack.

"We have at least one more full day before we reach that settlement. We don't have that much water with us. Forgot the other backpack when those fuckers attacked."

"Okay."

"Will you stay on your feet?" Logan asked. She nodded. She would stay on her feet. She would keep up with him.

"Good. Lets get going," Logan said, tossing the backpack over his shoulder.

It was little easier. Her body was slowly giving in for her demands. Her feet didn't hurt as much as earlier. Logan made sure to stop from time to time and let her drink. Small sips. Only small. But the end of the day it became clear there had been not enough water.

"Shit." He could see the lights of the settlement in the distance. Sun had set an hour ago. Yet it would be closer to dawn before they reached the place. She wouldn't last that long. It was hard for him, too, but he would manage. His healing took care of dehydration up to a certain point, and that point was far ahead. He could go on at least two days more without water if needed. That wasn't the case with Marie. For the last couple of hours she had been nearly delirious, trying to dive in to sand when he wasn't looking, claiming she could see water, and why was Logan being so stubborn jackass and didn't let her drink it? Now she was swaying next to him, staring at those same lights, breath rasping and wheezing.

"Drink up, kid." Drink? Something warm pressed against her mouth. Salty liquid poured in, pulsing flow ebbing fast. She grabbed the thing in front of her face and suckled, trying to get as much of the liquid in her as possible.

"Let go for a sec…" She let go, whimpering slightly, then the thing came back, and again liquid flowed freely. Her taste buds started to react slowly. Metal mingled with salt. Again flow ebbed. She let go and opened her eyes. She lay on the ground, head propped to Logan's lap. He was cutting his wrist with his claws and pressed the wound to her lips. Blood.

"Don't get sick over it. We have kilometers to cover before we can get some water."

_Wolverine_

Sound of running water drew her back from the parched dreamscape she had been wandering around for the past hours. Water. Close by. She cracked open her swollen eyelids. Hard, wooden floor under her back. She rolled on her stomach and rose on her hands and knees, mechanically, and scanned her surroundings. A faucet, attached to a wall. Walls around her. A room. A sink, and faucet, water running from it. She crawled to it and dragged herself up to quivering legs, ducking her head under the spray of water and drinking. She remembered Logan's warnings earlier. Not to drink too fast or she would get sick. Reluctantly she turned off the faucet after few sips, then turned around.

Small room. Wooden floors and walls. A fireplace. Table and two chairs in front of it. A bed. Logan sleeping on it. Guns still strapped on, booted feet tangling over the side of the bed. He hadn't gone to sleep. He had collapsed.

She turned back to the sink, turned on the faucet and drank some more. Took off her clothes and rinsed off as much of the accumulated grime and dust as it was possible. Feel of cool water flowing over her skin was heavenly.

He had stumbled to the settlement just after sunrise, Marie hanging limply on his arms. Generous wad of cash had ensured them a room from an inn. He had dragged his weary corpse up the stairs, sickening whine echoing inside of his skull. He knew he should have taken care of her, should have woken her up and given her something to drink. But he had been too tired. He had put her down on the floor, near the sink and turned on the faucet, hoping that the sound and scent of water would rouse her from her stupor. Mission accomplished he had walked to the bed, fully intending just to sit down for a moment to gather his strength. He had managed two whole steps before his legs had given up and he had fallen on the bed face down. Unable to move. Unable to stay awake.

Now somebody was shaking and prodding him. Fuckers. Didn't they have sense enough to let him rest?

"Logan?" No. No Logan in here.

"Logan?" Why couldn't they let him be? He was so fucking tired. They could go and get somebody else. There were others.

"Logan? Wake up." Logan. There was no Logan. They had beaten him in to hiding. Was this some new way to remind him about that?

She wanted to clean him up. She didn't know for sure, but she had a hunch that he couldn't be very comfortable right now. Gritty sand chafing his skin, stench of sweat and blood coming off from him in waves. She had tried for several times to rouse him, but he stayed dead to the world.

"Wolverine?" She whispered hesitantly. Logan's eyes blinked open and he sat up.

"Could you stand up?" Why the fuck the Mechanic sounded so scared? She had to know there was nothing he could do. He obeyed tiredly. She took his hand and led him to a sink.

"I'll take these off and clean you up. You can go soon back to sleep. Okay?" He nodded mutely when she started stripping him from his weapons.

"Can you get your clothes off?" She asked. Yeah. He could do that. Probably meant that he was going to stay here for a while. Good. He was in no condition to go back to the field. He stumbled a bit, wobbling awkwardly on one leg, then on the other, kicking off boots and shrugging down his jeans.

Yellow gaze followed her every move with no real interest. Lights were on, but there was nobody home. She doused her shirt under the faucet and started sweeping Logan clean. First his face. Then neck. Low rumble, almost a purr echoed from deep within his chest when cool, wet cloth swiped behind his ears. Yet that blank look didn't leave his face. She rinsed out the shirt and continued over his shoulders, down to his chest and back. Rinse, swipe and repeat. Rinse, swipe and repeat. A day before she would have balked at the idea of touching him so intimately, but she knew she had to get all of the sand away.

He could have done it by himself. She could have just left the rag and let him take care of himself. But she seemed so determined to clean him that he didn't object. She even washed the crack between his buttocks. And he had to admit he felt already better. She hadn't used any soap, but at least the thickest layer of dirt and grime was gone.

"Drink this." A bottle of water was pushed to his hands. He downed it, eyeing the Mechanic absentmindedly. She was straightening the bed, dusting off sheets and blankets. She was naked. Firm, strong body. Had taken some damage at some point in her life. Old scars littering her skin. Well, fuck it. Everybody had scars.

When he lied down on the bed, Mechanic crawled under the blankets with him, still smelling scared, but wrapping her hands around him. A word rose to his mind. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he spoke it out loud.

"Marie?"

"It's me, Logan…" Mechanic muttered softly, and scent of her fear started to evaporate.

He woke up disoriented and groggy. Last thing he remembered was walking up the stairs and opening a door. Heavy metal door of his bunker. Marie was sleeping, small body curled against his side. Events of the past days started to come back for him slowly. Narrow escape. Fighting. The desert. Traveler's Inn. Another door. Door to this room opening. Then nothing. He let his gaze sweep over the room, taking in all details. Clothes and gun holsters on a pile on the floor, near the sink. Tattered backpack next to the bed they were sleeping on. Fireplace. Table and chairs. Scent of other occupants imprinted to every surface. Toilet seat next to the sink. Made out of steel. Heavy locks on the door. At least he had locked it behind them.

His attention turned back to Marie. Her lips were still swollen and cracked, but she was already looking much better than last time he had seen her. She must have kept drinking, because her skin was slowly gaining back its healthy glow. He turned on his side, trailing a finger over her features, from her eyebrows over her nose, over her lips. It made her wrinkle her nose and turn in her sleep. She ended up on her back, one hand still trapped between his neck and the pillow, the other thrown over the side of the bed. Her new position exposed her upper body, granting him full access to her breasts.

He spent few minutes just observing, watching how her ribcage moved just slightly with every breath she took. Finally need to touch her made him raise his hand and trail a path from her navel to between her breasts, to her sternum. She squirmed under his feather-light caress and turned back on her side. Quilt fell from her, ending to the floor, exposing her whole body. Angry bruising on her side, shape of the truck's framework. Another bruise on her arm. Shape of his palm and fingers from when he had grabbed her in the garage. Both looked like they really hurt. And during the whole time she had said nothing. She had complained, all right, but not a word about his rough way of handling her.

"Hi," she greeted him softly and opened her eyes. Small smile spreading to her lips.

"Hi. Thirsty?" He asked. She shook her head.

"Just glad that you're back with me," she mumbled scooting closer and nuzzling her face against his chest. He buried his face to her hair and breathed in deeply. Sleep, sand, and sweat, Marie.

"We got here. What do we do now?" Marie asked, lifting her head to look at him.

"We rest. Gather some supplies. Find a way to disappear."

"That sounds like a good plan. How long do we have before…"

"Two days at tops. Maybe less. I should go and find us a vehicle," Logan said, sitting up.

"Don't go yet." Her body curling around his waist and her soft plea made him swallow.

"Marie?" Her hands were sliding over his thighs, soothing bunched up hard muscles.

"Lay back down," she whispered.

She was straddling him, hands caressing his temples and her lips grazing over his. He wanted this. He could smell her need, her want as well. His trembling hands rose and latched to her hips.

"Marie…"

"Hush…" She kissed him again, sliding her tongue past his lips, tasting him. He found it impossible not to answer. One hand still holding her hip, the other tangling to her hair, pulling her even closer.

She could feel Logan begin to harden under her and rolled her hips, enjoying the small jolts movement sent to the pit of her stomach. Logan gasped and sucked her lips more greedily, licking and nipping, making her moan out loud.

Coppery taste of her blood from her split lip rolled over his tongue, making something inside of him stir and pace restlessly. He pushed her up, cutting the contact, concentrating to her breasts instead. Palming them, worrying the nipples between his fingers until they were rock hard, taut peaks and she was nearly sobbing, rubbing her already wet mound over his hard length over and over again.

She leaned over his chest, licking one flat nipple experimentally. It caused Logan to groan and buck his hips against hers; crushing his straining erection between their bodies and making it rub against her clitoris. She repeated her action with his other nipple, giving it a gentle nip with her teeth. Logan's hand wound in her hair, dragging her up again.

"Don't." His eyes were a lighter shade of brown than usual, small golden flecks making their way to the surface, giving his irises yellowish glow.

He let go of her hair when he was sure she had gotten the message. She leaned down again, this time nipping and suckling his throat. It made him arch his back and growl from pleasure. He could feel her slick folds around his cock, the throbbing core just waiting to be filled. He rolled them over, making her let out a surprised gasp. That gasp turned soon to a delighted mewl when he sheathed his cock in to her.

This time there was no pain. She cried out loud from pleasure when she felt him slide in, thick and hot length filling her completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Christ…" Logan whispered through clenched teeth before bending his head and taking her lips to a searing kiss.

He eased out slowly before pushing back in, small but strong muscles clenching around him rhythmically, milking him. He had often imagined what it would feel like, but nothing had prepared him for this feeling of slick, tight heat that enveloped him. He sucked in one pert nipple and her core gripped his shaft even tighter, making him hiss and let go of her breast.

She was teetering between clear and incoherent, tightening in her stomach spreading rapidly through her whole body. Her palms against Logan's heaving chest, his head thrown backwards, throat bared to her, hips rolling against hers with steady pace that was slowly driving her crazy. She let her legs slide down from his hips, thighs spreading further apart and nearly screamed when the change of the angle made him bump against her clitoris every time he moved. Logan bent his head, pressing his forehead against hers, locking his hooded gaze to her eyes. They were both falling, tumbling over the edge. Muscles straining, sudden jolt making their eyes water.

_Do you see me, know me?_

She lay on the bed, whole body still tingling, muscles lax, and watched Logan getting dressed. He had pulled out fresh pair of jeans and a black T-shirt from the backpack, and was strapping on his guns.

"I'll go and find us a new set of wheels. You can wait here. Keep the door locked," He said, diving once more in to the battered bag and pulling out a black bundle of leather. A jacket. It hid the holsters strapped to his arms and sides. It also carried a selection of different kind of electronic gadgets she could see before Logan zipped it up.

"I should be back within two hours. Wait here," he said, walking to her and leaning to kiss her before walking out.

Two hours. It was a long time to wait. Anything could happen. She curled on her side, under quilt and pressed her face against the pillow where Logan had slept just an hour ago. She knew he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Yet she couldn't stop the barrage of images that bombarded her mind when she closed her eyes. Logan dead. Logan dying. Logan captured. Logan tortured. Logan running. Logan lying on the pool of blood. Logan standing up and raising his gaze, yellow indifferent eyes staring through her like she was nothing but thin air…

He would have much rather stayed with Marie, wrapped up to her scent and warm embrace, but he had a bad feeling that they had already wasted too much time. He descended the stairs to the ground level, passing the clerk who sat behind his counter reading a magazine. Reading. Times were really changing when they could afford to keep that talented individual in that kind of job.

Logan shrugged off the last vestiges of sleep and stepped outside, pausing briefly and stepped back in. Street outside was crowded, crawling with the usual, ragged crowd. Yet something felt off. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He straightened his shoulders and stepped back out again, pushing through the crowd, parting it with his mere presence.

He didn't know what had made him choose the cocky attitude instead of more careful one, but obviously it had been a good choice. Instead of Hunters and Guards he could detect a gang of sneaky looking teenagers, armed to the tooth with dangerous looking, self-made weapons, slinking back to shadowed alleys from the sight of him. Snorting for his paranoia he scanned through the maze of adverts and road signs until he found what he was looking for.

Rickety warehouse was filled with cars, motorcycles and trucks. Old and battered, new and shiny, and part of them something between those two. He scanned the rows of vehicles briefly, his eyes landing to the right one almost instantly.

"This one." Owner of the place approached him, rubbing his palms together.

"Good choice. Good choice. Very durable and low maintenance and…"

"Shut your trap. How much?" Logan grunted, smoothing his palm over slightly rusted coating of his purchase. Merchant eyed him from head to toe, assessing him.

"Free for you. But get the hell out of here before the evening. They're going to close down this whole settlement," old, gnarled man said, handing him the keys to the hummer, flashing a forked tongue briefly between his thin lips. A mutant. Logan nodded.

"Thanks for the advice. You need anything?" He asked. There was not much he could, or even would do, but after all, it was only polite to offer to repay the favor. Old man shook his head.

"No need to worry over me… I'm too old for their purposes. And only car dealer in this hellhole. You think these kind people would let them take me?"

Transportation taken care of Logan set off to find food, water and clothes for them. All three he found easily enough from the marketplace. When he was returning from the garage back to the Inn, the group of teenagers he had seen earlier approached him.

"You should leave. Now. We don't want any troubles," biggest of the group, burly looking boy whose head barely reached Logan's shoulder spoke.

"I'm not planning to stay any longer than it's necessary," Logan said, wondering silently if everybody around here was a mutant. Boy nodded, group retreated and let him pass.

Scent of Marie's fear hit him squarely to face when he walked in to the Inn. Yet he found no signs of unusual activity or disturbances. He took the stairs two steps at time and was pounding on their door just as her shrill scream pierced the air.

"Marie!" Foot encased to a heavy boot made short work of the locks on the door.

She bolted up from the sound of door breaking open and kept screaming long after it had registered that it was Logan. Logan who crossed the floor with few strides and pulled her against him, smoothing her tousled hair, murmuring quiet whispers until she calmed down.

"It was you… But it wasn't you… You didn't even know me! You just stood there and stared right trough me!" She was crying now instead of screaming, sharp and bitter sobs, and small fists pounding against his back while he held her.

"Hush. It was just a dream. Just a dream, Marie. I'm here now." She pulled away from his embrace, seeking his eyes.

"Do you see me? Do you know who I am?" She asked with a trembling voice.

"Of course I do."

"Good. Because yesterday you didn't."

"Okay. Hold that thought. Put these on. We have to leave, but we'll talk about yesterday later," Logan said, shoving a bundle of clothes to her. Jeans, T-shirt and a jacket, much similar attire as his. But where his jacket was leather, hers was made from more rigid and heavier material.

"It's coated with Kevlar, and there's an adamantium mesh sewn inside of the lining. Should stop anything they can throw at us. I doubt that the merchant even knew what she was selling. Wonder where she got this…" Logan murmured when she pulled the jacket on, flexing her hands and twisting her waist to see if she could still move wearing it.

"Messengers wear these on the field."

"This is our new car?" She asked, tilting her head. Rusted rectangular heap on six wheels didn't exactly scream speed and safety.

"Hop in. This will do just fine," Logan said, walking to the back of the car, checking it once more before returning to the driver's side of it. Marie opened the door carefully, expecting to hear agonized creak and door to fell off from its hinges. Instead it opened smoothly, without making a sound. Surprisingly comfortable seat engulfed her when she sat in; molding against her back like it was designed for her. Dashboard in front of her was filled with meters, small blinking lights and switches.

"Is this a car or an airplane?" She asked when Logan sat in, pushing the key to the ignition.

"Bit of both, I guess. And a tank. Just what we need. Doesn't come with a bathroom, but there's a small cot in the back if you want to take a nap, and storage lockers. And what's best about this, this hasn't belonged to Army. They don't use this model."

"Now… about what you said earlier…" Logan said when they were driving out of the settlement.

"About me not knowing you. What was that all about?" For a moment she pondered what to say. She didn't want him to bolt, retreat from her. Not now when things were finally starting to look better.

"It was nothing. Just a stupid dream," she said, trying to pretend that the scenery outside was interesting.

"Don't fucking lie to me," Logan growled.

"I have to know. I have a gap in my memory. Can't remember a thing that happened after I got us in to that room."

"It was nothing. You were really tired. I helped you to get cleaned up. You were little out of it, like you didn't know me, or something. And your eyes…" She stopped talking, afraid that she had already said too much when Logan cringed.

"My eyes. What about my eyes?"

"They were different."

"Different? Bigger? Smaller? They were yellow, weren't they?" Logan asked. She nodded.

"Shit. Oh, fucking shit. What did I do? Did I say something? Did I do something?"

"You just stood and stared. Like you really didn't even see me. You did everything I asked you to do, but it was like… Like you didn't even know I was there. No. That's not right. You knew I was there, but it didn't matter. Like I was part of furnishing. An object. Nothing interesting. Certainly not worth of interest." They sat in silence for a while. To Marie it felt like eternity. Logan was stealing glances from her from the corner of his eye, biting his lower lip, obviously trying to decide what to say.

"If you see me like that ever again, walk away. Walk away from me. Slowly. Don't even try to get my attention. Okay?" He finally said with a hollow voice.

"I won't probably attack. You're too small to pose a threat. I probably thought you were a Mechanic…"

"What are you talking about?" Won't probably attack? Was she supposed to start to be afraid of him, too?

"You met Wolverine. The Destroyer."

_You matter to me_

Logan was driving and fiddling with the devices mounted on the dashboard, adding the ones from his jacket there as well, hooking them together with wires. Marie was sitting, mulling the situation over and over again in her head. Logan was still Logan. There were bad guys after them. What happened if Logan became that other? The Wolverine?

"It's still me. Just very, very fucked up version of me. They managed to root out everything that made me human. For a Destroyer everything is black and white. It's either hostile, or not. If target is hostile, it's a threat and must be dealt with equally. If target's not a threat, no reaction is needed if not asked otherwise." Logan had explained and repeated his earlier command to walk away from Wolverine.

"And if you can't walk… Try to stay unnoticed."

Loud beeping woke her from her thoughts and she jumped, turning to look at what Logan was doing. He smiled sheepishly, pressing some buttons below green screen next to steering wheel, and beeping stopped.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. It's a radar."

"Radar?" She had heard the word before, but couldn't remember what it meant.

"See this screen?" Logan said, tapping the small, green rectangular. She nodded.

"Extra pair of eyes. From here we can see anything alive within five kilometers radius around this vehicle."

"Oh…"

"How do you know so much about this stuff?" Marie asked. What she had seen fit very poorly together with the common image of a Destroyer, filthy, animal-like mindless beast.

"At the beginning of the War they were dabbling with us. Experimenting. Trying to create a perfect soldier. Taught us all kinds of neat tricks. Then they realized that it was kind of pointless to squander money to training, when average unit's expected lifespan on the field was less than ten seconds." Suddenly she wasn't so interested about the topic anymore.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Logan shrugged his shoulders.

"Figured I would keep on driving until we can be sure they're not following us anymore."

"What about gas? Doesn't this car need fuel?"

"Nope. We have solar panels on the roof, and hydrogen cells under the hood."

"Christ! This must have cost you a fortune!" She gasped.

"Merchant was a mutant. Gave this to me for free."

"Why? And where did he get this?" Marie asked. Again Logan shrugged.

"Beats me. Didn't stop to ask."

"What if there's some sort of tracking device hidden in here? What if this really belongs to the Army?" Marie asked, eyes widening.

"Don't worry," Logan said, patting his breast pocket.

"This little guy would have made a noise if there was something extra in here," he said, pulling out a small metal box.

She walked around the car, stretching her legs, groaning from relief. They had driven for hours, until Logan had stopped. He was sitting on the hood of the car, cigar clamped between his teeth.

"There's food in the back of this beast," he said, patting the hood with his palm. Marie climbed next to him and leaned against his side.

"I'm not hungry. But I could use little cuddling up."

"Yeah. Me too," Logan grunted, draping his arm over her shoulders and pulling her closer.

"It's so beautiful out here," Marie whispered. Sun had set an hour ago. Full moon colored the scenery with silver and blue.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," Logan said.

"Why did you escape from the Army?"

"Huh?" Logan was staring at her like she suddenly grew a second head to her shoulders.

"What you told me… You made it sound like you were a machine. Machines don't have feelings. What made you want to run?"

"Same guys had been guarding me too long. I had had the same Mechanic too long. They treated me as a person. A dangerous one, but still a person. It made me start to think. I wasn't really planning to escape, but then that fire broke out, and I just did." Logan paused and puffed his cigar for a moment.

"That side of me… Wolverine. It's built to survive. Nothing else matters."

Logan threw away the stub of his cigar and slid down from the hood of the car. Cracked his neck and stretched his back.

"We should get going." Marie nodded and slid towards him, legs ending to both sides of his.

"Let me down?" She asked. Logan shook his head.

"Not yet." His hands cupped her face and he leaned closer, to kiss her. Soft, tender kiss to her forehead. Then another to her lips. Her hands delved under his jacket when he deepened the kiss, trailing down his chest, curling around his sides and ending to rest palms flat against his lower back.

"You matter to me," Logan whispered when their lips parted.

"And you matter to me…" He leaned his forehead against hers; clearly struggling with something, eyes pinched shut and throat working furiously. His hands gripped her waist, rustling the cloth of her jacket.

First time in his life he mattered to somebody.

"Okay… Time to get moving," he said, clearing his throat and lifting her to the ground when radar in the car suddenly reacted and started to send out signal.

"Five of them. Approaching fast. But that can't be right…" Logan muttered, tapping the screen lightly.

"What's wrong?" Marie asked, strapping on the seatbelt.

"Direction. Settlement is north from us. They're coming from south. And way too fast… Shit. Stay in. Lock the doors." Logan stepped out when beams of light swept over the car.

They were small hovercrafts, not much bigger than an average motorcycle. Drivers were dressed to black leather from head to toe, and wore matching black helmets. They surrounded the car. Logan shrugged guns from their strappings to his hands, training them to a driver that had jumped off from the saddle. Driver lifted his hands. Logan caught a glimpse; a reflection from his visor just as car door jerked open behind him and Marie shouted a warning. He ducked, but not fast enough. He heard a soft swoosh, and something stung the side of his neck. He grasped it and stared it dumbly. Small, green arrow.

"Logan!" He could hear Marie screaming, calling him. His field of vision narrowed and his knees started to buckle. He turned to the direction of her voice, took a step towards her and fell flat on his face. His last thought turned off the lights before it left the building.

Logan was down, unconscious. Maybe dead. She was screaming and struggling, but it was futile. Man that held her hauled her back in the car effortlessly before sitting on the driver's seat and turning on the engine. She tried to jump out, but man dug a syringe from his pocket and emptied it to her bare neck with precision that would have put many nurses in shame. She fell limply against her seat, drug making her feel dizzy, draining all her strength.

_Free zone_

He woke up slowly, blinking when fluorescent lights above him made his eyes water. Took in his surroundings. Cold metal under his back. Equally cold metal around his wrists and ankles. Thick metal band securing his neck to the metal slab he lay on. White walls and roof. Glittering chrome equipments scattered all around him. He turned his head as far as the band allowed, to get a better view and pitiful whimper escaped from his lips. Marie lay next to him, unconscious and strapped down to a metal table similar manner as him. That whimper turned to a furious growl when a masked figure wearing a lab coat entered the room. Figure didn't even flinch, just ignored him and walked to Marie, taking a stethoscope and a cuff and measured her blood pressure.

"Female, approximately twenty years old. Subject seems to be in good health. No ill response to sedation. Subject has manifested, and mutation is active. I recommend we continue quarantine yet another week at least."

Voice belonged to a woman. When she had finished with Marie, she turned to Logan. Now he could see small recorder in her hand.

"Male, approximately thirty-five years old. Subject is in good health. No ill response to sedation. Subject has manifested, and mutation is active. I recommend we continue quarantine yet another week at least." Woman prattled the litany to the recorder before pocketing it and measuring his blood pressure.

"What the fuck is going on?" Logan snarled. He knew from experience that this was no Army operation. Woman didn't answer, just put away the stethoscope and the cuff and left. As soon as door had closed behind her, it opened again. Two masked figures walked in. One took a hold of Marie's gurney and the other started carting Logan. Again he tried to ask what was happening, but he could have gotten an answer much easier from a brick wall than their captors.

To his amazement men, they clearly were men, pushed both gurneys to the same room, retreating. Some sort of force field closed the doorway, and restraints on him and Marie clicked open. He sprung to his feet and snatched Marie's limb body to his arms, retreating to the furthest corner of the room. Gurneys seemed to have a life of their own. As soon as their weight was off from them, they retreated from the room through the force field.

They still had their clothes on, and what puzzled Logan at no end, was the fact that they hadn't taken his weapons. Guns were still in their holsters.

"Marie?" He shook her lightly. There was no answer. Her eyes stayed closed, breathing shallow. Logan slid to the floor, back against the wall, her warm form clutched against his chest. His eyes scanned the room around them. Again white walls. Doorway that was glowing blue light. Soft-looking narrow bed. Toilet seat and sink next to it on the opposite wall of the bed. No surveillance cameras as far as he could detect.

"Looks like we're screwed again, kid…" He whispered, more to himself than to Marie.

"Come on, Marie… Wake up. You're starting to scare me…" His nose and ears told him there was nothing wrong. She didn't smell sick or injured. Her heartbeat and breathing were steady, peaceful, but they had been cooped up to this cell for several hours already, and she showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

"Wake the fuck up!" Angry growl and hard slap on her cheek pulled her awake. She bolted up, away from who ever had slapped her, and regretted that move immediately. Somebody had replaced her knees with rubber, brain with cotton wads, and stuffed some sort of dead animal down her throat. She fell on the floor.

"Get up." Rough hands around her arms, fingers digging to muscle, dragging her up and forward.

"Get up and move those fucking legs." That voice. She knew that voice. Logan. She tried to stand up, tried to tell him it was okay. She was awake now.

"You're going to walk, or you're going to cry and walk. Which is it?" He was shaking her like a rag doll, dragging her around. Funny. She thought they had gotten away from the desert, but here they were again. And she wanted to sleep. But first she was going to puke. What ever she had been eating, it wasn't co-operating with her stomach.

"Good. Let it all out." Toilet bowl? There was a toilet bowl in the middle of a freaking desert? Trust Logan to find one from oddest of places…

"Here. Rinse your mouth." Water. Good. But wait a fucking minute!

"You said we had no fucking water!" She spat, struggling to get free from his hold. Logan let go of her and backed away few steps.

"You awake?" She heard him asking. She couldn't answer. Fresh bout of nausea made her gag and sputter, kneel in front of the toilet bowl again. Her stomach cramped and heaved, but nothing came out. Logan's hands landed on her shoulders, massaging gently.

"Drink this." White paper cup, filled with water. She took it, rinsed her mouth again before actually drinking. Her head started to clear slowly.

"Where are we? I remember that they shot you and… What is this place?"

"Don't have a clue. I woke up in some kind of a lab. You were there, too. They carted us in here and left," Logan said, taking the empty cup from her and filling it again.

"Drink. I don't know what they used to knock you out, but more you drink, faster it leaves your system."

"In a lab? What did they do to us?" She gasped horrified.

"Nothing as far as I can tell. Took our blood pressure and threw us in here. They even let me keep my guns…" Suddenly force field on the door flickered once, then twice before disappearing completely.

"What do you see?" Marie whispered her question. Logan had sneaked to the doorway, and once he was sure the force field was really off, he had eased partly out of the room to take a peek.

"Another room. Bigger one. I don't know… Looks like somebody's home…" Logan whispered, gesturing her to come closer.

"Stay close."

They stepped out to a space that reminded a comfortable living room. A couch, few armchairs and row after row books on a shelf lined to the wall. Soft carpets on the floor. Even a small fireplace with crackling fire in it. On a table in front of it was a tray, covered with white cloth.

"This is weird…" Marie started and let out a startled gasp when force field behind them flickered back to life, blocking their entrance to the smaller room. Simultaneously a part of opposite wall disappeared, revealing yet another room. They could see a table, and chairs around it. Cupboards lining the walls. An envelope on the table. Two doors, two real doors at the far wall of that room.

"Come on," Logan urged, taking her hand and they entered to what appeared to be a kitchen. Logan picked up the envelope. Plain white, no scents on it. No other than paper, and ink. He tore it open.

_Welcome to the Free Zone. You're quarantined. You will find food and clean clothes from the quarantine facility around you. Once that it's established that you carry no infections, you will be released, and can become a part of our society._

"Free Zone?" Marie asked when Logan cursed and tore the paper.

"I have heard about this place. Thought it was just a rumor. This is supposed to be some sort of haven for mutants. Safe place, hidden from the Army." Marie squealed, clapped her hands and jumped from delight, but grim lines on Logan's face made her smile falter.

"This isn't a good thing?" She asked. Logan forced a small smile on his face.

"I'm not sure. Might be. But I have my suspicions…"

Next hour they spent inspecting their prison. Prison it was, even if cozier than most of those. From behind closed doors in the kitchen they found small bathroom, and a bedroom. Cupboards held dishes and were stocked with dried food products. There was soap and shampoo in the bathroom, as well as toothpaste and toothbrushes. Fire in the fireplace at the living room wasn't real, but some sort of holographic projection. Books were real. On a tray, under the cloth was a metal cylinder with two porcelain cups. Logan opened the cylinder and took a careful sniff.

"Coffee. Relatively fresh. Want some?" He asked, pouring himself a cup and slumping to an armchair in front of the false fire.

"Go on. It's not poisoned," he said when Marie hesitated. She poured herself a cup and settled on the floor, leaning her head against his knee.

"Couldn't find any surveillance. No cameras, no bugs. Couldn't find a door to outside either. Looks like were stuck."

"Well, there are worse places we could be stuck in," Marie said, glancing around. Logan snorted.

"Prison is a prison. Doesn't matter how pretty curtains you drape over its windows. But don't worry. I'll find a way to get us out of here. No surveillance means than somebody has to come and check up on us sooner or later…"

When something finally happened, it wasn't what Logan had expected.

They had spent few moments discussing their options and sipping coffee. Marie was starting to relax, but something kept Logan on his toes. There was no identifiable threat, nothing tangible to point out and shout warning, but his whole nervous system was buzzing, sending alarm. He was about to shrug it off, to turn his back on his instincts when soft whirr coming from the ceiling made them both look up. What they saw made Marie scream, and Logan cringe.

There were few spotlights mounted on the ceiling, much like in Logan's bunker had been. Grey smoke started to waft from under those lamps, falling towards the floor.

"Gas. Some sort of gas. Get up… Get up!" Logan pulled Marie up when grey mist swirled around their ankles. Level of it was rising rapidly, and soon it filled their quarters completely. Marie went down first, coughing and spluttering, trying to hold her breath as long as possible. It was useless effort. Logan could only watch, lungs burning and eyes watering when she lost consciousness once again. He lay next to her, feeling already dizzy, and curled around her, locking her to his embrace. No matter what would happen he wasn't going to let go of her.

When room cleared from the gas and masked men entered, pushing a gurney in front of them, Logan bolted on his feet. He wasn't hundred percent, not even close, but he was awake. As long as he was awake and alive, nobody would lay a hand on Marie. Claws erupted from his clenched fists. He staggered slightly, took a swipe towards the masked men but missed. Instead of cutting flesh and bone he only managed to scratch the gurney men had shoved him with before other of them pulled a gun and shot him. Instead of small, green dart very real bullet tore through the right side of his chest, just below his collarbone and he fell flat on his back.

He had been abusing his mutation for days, relying too much on it. Trusting it would take what ever got thrown on him. That last blow had been the last straw. It was a bitter realization. He could only squirm on rapidly growing warm pool of his own blood when men walked past him, grabbed Marie, lifted her to the gurney and disappeared to the room from which Logan and Marie had originally entered to their quarters. He tried to crawl after them, got as far as to the doorway, before blue force field flickered back on. Through it he could see the woman wearing the lab coat undressing Marie. Opening her jacket and shirts, pulling off jeans. Last thing he saw before blood loss rendered him unconscious was that same woman strapping Marie's legs to stirrups and pulling a chair between her legs.

He woke up from the bed. He still had his pants on, but somebody had taken his jacket and shirt off and bandaged his wound. Marie lay next to him, naked. Their clothes were neatly folded on a chair next to the bed, and on top of them were his guns. There was an envelope on the nightstand. It wasn't as interesting as Marie. She had a new scent on her. Scent that he knew from memory. Artificial hormones. Birth control.

"Marie?" He whispered, rolling on his side and drawing her closer, against his chest. She woke up, gasping for air and screaming.

"Hush… It's okay; I'm here. We're okay…" He held her and kept whispering until she calmed down.

"What happened? I feel so… My hand hurts and I feel so sticky and…" Her hand flew to the juncture of her thighs. Fearing that her fingers would find blood. But she had to know. When she brought it up, there was only clear fluid on her fingertips.

"They examined you. That's probably some sort of lubricant. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep you safe. I tried but…"

"Why would they examin me from down there?"

"To see if you were pregnant."

"And how the fuck it would have been anybody's business if I had been?" It was a good question. A question Logan did have several answers, not one of them pleasant.

"What is this?" Marie asked, fingers brushing over bandage on his chest. Small droplets of blood had seeped through already.

"Nothing. It'll heal in time."

He reached for the envelope and opened it.

_We apologize any possible discomfort caused to you. You both have been vaccinated, and you have been given a birth control injection. Free Zone doesn't encourage occupants breeding randomly. Injections will continue monthly, until genetically suitable partner has been found. Thank you for your cooperation._

"Genetically suitable? That doesn't sound normal…" Marie whispered.

"It doesn't. It sounds plain weird. Like everything else that has happened in here. We have to find a way to get out," Logan said, sitting up. He groaned when sudden movement made his head spin alarmingly and leaned back on the bed.

"You really are hurt!" Marie gasped. Cold sweat had broken to Logan's skin and he was pale as the sheet they lay on.

"I'll be alright… Stop fussing." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, willing away the dizziness and nausea settling on him. He struggled back up, leaning his elbows to his knees, resting his forehead against his knuckles. Bile rose to the back of his throat, but he forced it back. Now wasn't the time to be sick and hurt. It was time to break out from this compound.

"Gather everything you can carry. Food, clothes, that kind of stuff," He told to Marie, standing up and pulling on his shirt.

"Is it safe? I mean the food."

"They haven't tried to kill us. I doubt it's poisoned." He checked his guns. Everything seemed to be okay. Except the fact that he didn't have any spare ammunition, and only one of them had a full clip left. It would have to be enough. He couldn't risk using his claws, not with impaired healing.

"How are we going to get out?" Marie asked, pulling on her jeans.

"Through that force field. I'll go and see if I can break it."

She stuffed their backpack she had found to the brim, piling fresh change of clothes for them both to the bottom, several pouches of rations and small bottles of water on top. After a moments hesitation she retrieved the shampoo, soap and toothbrushes from the bathroom. Small luxuries. When she returned to Logan, he was leaning against the doorframe, face mere inches from the force field, gazing upwards. He extended a finger and brushed against the blue glow. Nothing happened.

"It feels solid. Cold." He spread his palm and pressed it against the field.

"And it comes straight through the wall. No weak spots, no laser eyes to break."

"But there's just a room behind it. What's the point to break in there?" Marie asked.

"After they gassed us, I saw that doctor in there with you. One of the walls was missing. There has to be some sort of cloaking device what they use to hide entrances around here."

"Let's see…" Logan trailed his fingers along the doorframe, looking for any weaknesses. It was useless. His eyes told him he was looking at a doorway, but his fingers told him there was a solid wall in front of him.

"Shit."

"Can I look?" Marie asked. He moved over.

She had never done it before, but something told her it could be done. She placed both of her hands against the force field and breathed deeply. She could already feel the power seeping through her skin.

"I don't know if this will work, but as soon as the field goes off, grab me and pull us through," she said, concentrating to her mutation. Trying to make it take in more. More of the power that was pulsing under her palms.

It was cold. So cold she felt her blood cooling. Blue light danced behind her closed eyelids. She could feel it rattling over her skin. Blue. Blue world around her. She was drowning, but the power of the flow was already weakening. She was consuming it, welcoming it in to her. It was cool, blue, calm and radiant, filling her with power, and it felt so good…

"Marie?" No. Blue. Pretty blue glow that was now flickering in front of her, diminishing. She whimpered and tried to grasp it tighter, but it was crumbling under her palms, evaporating.

"Marie?"

"Now!"

Field was coming down. Doorway was opening. Marie was radiating that same blue light the field had pulsed just few minutes ago. When she spoke, her voice was cold and hollow.

"Now!" He grabbed her and pushed them through the now open doorway and they stumbled to the other room. Field behind them closed immediately, leaving them trapped to the room where they had woken up first. And Marie was still glowing, blue mist hovering and pulsing around her. Brown eyes completely engulfed with cold light of it.

"Which wall?" She asked. For a moment he could just stare at her.

"Which wall, goddamned?" She repeated her question, puffing blue clouds of mist with every breath. Logan pointed at the wall he remembered seeing open. Marie walked to it, palms flat in front of her and leaned against the concrete surface. Wall in front of her started to evaporate, crumble under her touch.

_Fix me_

He didn't quite know how they had gotten out. He didn't know where they were. He was carrying Marie, just Marie now, on his arms. Running through a forest, waiting to hear the sound of hovercrafts from behind at any second now. Small rubble and twigs under his heels crackling and rolling, branches snagging him, slapping his face. He kept pushing forward blindly. He had left the outer perimeter of the compound behind just few moments ago. Compound. Right. What was left of it. Crumbled slabs of concrete. Personnel either crushed under the debris or eradicated by Marie.

Power she had harnessed from the field containing them had been unbelievable. The way she had unleashed it against their captors made Logan shiver from both fear and arousal. Blue glow seeping out from her whole being, mist around her eating away everything it touched almost instantly, turning humans and the building itself to dust. He had prepared to fight their way out of there, but all he had had to do was to walk behind Marie, and stay away from the radiating tendrils of mist that had wafted around her. Mist had eaten away her clothes; leaving only the adamantium core of her jacket, and it had hung on her like a chain mail.

He remembered reading a book about ancient warriors called Vikings. They believed in afterlife, and to a place called Valhalla. After a warrior died, a Valkyrie came to take his soul to there. He glanced at the girl sleeping on his arms. Valkyrie. She had gotten his heart and body when she had told him that he mattered to her. Her display of pure power back at the Free Zone had granted her his soul as well. He could only hope that she wouldn't sprout wings and fly away with it.

He had to stop when his legs threatened to give up. He stood panting, leaning his back against a tree and tried to listen. His left hand felt cold. Blood had seeped through the bandage on his chest long ago, and was no dribbling down his torso, soaking the waistband of his jeans. He let Marie slide to the ground when he couldn't hear any unusual sounds. They weren't followed.

"And who the fuck would even follow us, you fucking moron?" He muttered. Destruction of the Free Zone had been complete. He slouched down and squirmed off the backpack from his shoulders. His stomach twisted and rumbled alarmingly when he accidentally brushed against his wounded shoulder. He was so fucking tired, hungry and cold.

Marie was still sleeping. After they had gotten out from the Free Zone blue mist had vanished from around her, and glow in her eyes had dimmed. She had collapsed. At first he had been hesitant to touch her, but few experimental pokes assured him that there was no danger anymore, and he had scooped her up to his arms and started running, acting on pure instinct, trying to get as far from the threatening situation as possible.

"Kid?" He reached to jab her slightly, trying to rouse her from her stupor.

"Wake up." He was going to crash soon. Before that he had to make sure she was all right. She had to be all right. There was no other option. He tried to lean closer and shake her shoulder, but he found out his left hand refused to cooperate anymore. He tried with his right, but it was impossible to reach to his left side without aggravating the wound on his shoulder even more. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the tree behind him and cleared his throat.

"Marie!" She moved a little, curled to her side and muttered something he didn't quite catch. That was a good sign. She really was just sleeping, not unconscious. He opened the backpack with his good hand and fumbled with its contents a bit before his fingers closed around a bottle. Cold. It would make him even colder, but there were no options. He had to drink. He had already lost too many fluids.

He emptied the bottle with few powerful pulls. He could feel his stomach cramping and complaining, but he told it to fuck it. Looked at the empty bottle in his hand. Then Marie. Yeah. It could work.

"Marie!" His throat started to hurt, but at least he had made an honest effort to wake her before he retorted to desperate measures. He weighed the bottle in his hand. Plastic. Light as air. He gathered all the strength he still had left, and threw it. It hit her on the face, and her eyes blinked open.

"What the fuck was that for!" He heard Marie shout before he dove in to darkness.

"You fucking told me you would be alright! Don't you give up on me now!" She had stripped off his jacket and shirt to see the wound. Bandage had slid off on its own because of the all blood it had absorbed. Jagged hole, wide enough to stuck a finger in it run through his upper chest, bleeding sluggishly. His skin was cold, and had a grayish hue on it. She pressed her ear against his chest to listen his heart. It was there. Steady, strong pulse. She retreated and reached for the backpack, to see if there was something she could use to cover the wound, when surprisingly strong hand gripped her hair and forced her face to face with yellow-eyed beast.

"Identification?" Wolverine spoke with low, hushed tone, eyes scanning her from head to toe. She nearly wet herself out of fear and closed her eyes. Grip from her hair tightened, and Wolverine pulled her closer. She could hear him taking in her scent.

"Civilian," Wolverine snorted contempt and shoved her away. She crawled away reaching for the backpack, and snatched it to herself before Wolverine got his hand on it. Destroyer lunged at his feet; teeth bared and with few swift strides closed the gap between them, grabbing her again with his good hand. Injured hand rose, brushing her chin briefly, before settling under her jaw. She could feel claws straining the skin, threatening to cut her. And a word rose to her mind. Something Logan had muttered when they had discussed about her earlier encounter with the beast.

"Mechanic! I'm a Mechanic!"

"Fix me." As soon as words had left her mouth Wolverine's attitude towards her had changed. From angry and enraged to mildly curious and commanding under a second.

"I don't have any equipment…" She stammered. Wolverine snorted and dropped her to the ground.

"I got lost and… I lost everything…" Wolverine was sitting down, leaning against the tree again.

"I don't fucking care. Fix me. That's what you're here for."

"What the fuck are you waiting for? A formal invitation? Plug this fucking hole in me!" Wolverine snarled when she just stood there, feet practically glued to the ground. Just his luck. Stumble upon a shell shocked Mechanic when he really could have used some help. Well, fuck her. He could take a short nap while waiting for the Mechanic to snap out of her stupor. Blood would clot eventually. His mutation would kick back in sooner or later.

Yellow eyes blinked, head started to droop. With every new breath his breathing got shallower. He was starting to tremble. His muscles were twitching. It was Wolverine, but underneath somewhere was Logan. Marie approached him carefully.

"What do you want?" Wolverine barked, eyes flashing open.

"I want to help. Is that okay?" Wolverine's head lolled back against the tree.

"Go ahead. I'm going to sleep now."

It never failed. Feign sleeping, and they were not so afraid of you anymore. This one even smelled slightly worried. Worried and crying. She would learn fast not to care. She had a light touch. Cold fingers, but that was expected. She was naked. Wonder what had happened to her?

"I'm going to clean the wound now…" She was whispering. Whispering and crying.

"Ah… Shit…" That really hurt. And now she was crying even more.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. And stop crying. You're a fucking lousy Mechanic if you're going to cry over every unit."

"There. It's done now."

"Good. Scoot. Go and see if anybody else needs you. You're first Mech we have seen in weeks."

"Okay…"

Wolverine was really sleeping now. She had torn Logan's bloodied shirt and used it and water to clean his wound. Then she had dressed it with what was left of the shirt. Not much, but it was better than nothing. She dug in the backpack and pulled out clothes for herself. Got dressed and ate. Risked waking the Wolverine again by walking to him and covering him with Logan's jacket. Destroyer just mumbled and shifted a bit in his sleep, then curled to the ground on his side and continued sleeping.

She knew she should have left. She knew she should be walking away. That's what Logan had told her to do, but she couldn't bring herself to abandon him now, when he needed her most. She could only hope it would be Logan who woke up next instead of the Wolverine.

_Take me_

Hot. It was so fucking hot. He was burning up in scorching inferno. He could feel his skin blistering and peeling off; muscles turning stiff and useless, frying like a fucking steak. Metal frame inside of him gathering heat, flesh falling off from it in big chunks. Too hot. Too fucking hot. And girl was there. So small, so scared, plastering her slim figure against him. Girl. Marie. And she was burning. Burning like dry leaf, grasping his arm, climbing on his lap, nuzzling against his fiery embrace and burning, burning, melting away…

Logan bolted up with horrified cry, claws slicing their way out involuntarily, heart hammering in his chest in triple time. Cry turned to a pitiful moan when he saw Marie, sitting in front of him, worried look on her face.

"No… No, no… Not real. Not happening…" Marie scooted closer and reached with her hands.

"Too hot, too hot! Don't touch!" He was burning up. What was she trying to do? He backed away hastily, kicking with his feet, sliding his buttocks on the ground until he felt something solid behind his back. She was approaching, and talking something, but he couldn't hear a thing over the crackling of the flames that were consuming him.

"No! Don't! It's too hot!" He pushed with his hands and feet, tried to get away from her, but she was closing in fast, straddling his thighs and cradling his face between her palms. Any second now she would turn to ashes and crumble to the wind. Any second. He closed his eyes and folded his arms around her, fighting the tears that threatened to escape. If it were what she wanted, he would give it to her. Then he would find a way to follow her.

Logan's mutation was apparently working again, blood hadn't squirted from his knuckles when he had unsheathed his claws, but he had practically fallen to pieces in front of her, and Marie didn't have a clue about what had caused it. He was nearly crushing her with his grip and kept whispering something over and over while sobbing and gasping for air.

"It's all right… It's all right…"

"I got you, Logan. Everything's going to be all right," she whispered to him, hoping it would calm him down. It only caused him to crush her against his chest harder and change the mantra he was whispering. Instead of reassurances he started pleading for forgiveness. An apology after another until his voice, already hoarse at the beginning, disappeared completely and she could only feel his words from the way his lips moved against the skin of her throat. Time after time she forgave him, not even knowing what she was forgiving.

His brain was kicking back in gear, slowly but steady. Claws slid back in their sheaths. He started to take in his surroundings, not daring to open his eyes. Not yet. Scents. Marie's scent was on top. She was wrapped all around him, like a blanket. Through her scent filtered moss, dirt and pine. Blood and sweat. Tears. He opened his eyes carefully. Creamy flawless skin. He blinked couple of times. Blue vein throbbing just inches from his nose. Jugular. Marie's jugular. It was pulsing. Under her skin. Like it should be.

"Better now?" He heard her asking. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah," Logan answered. She rose to look at him.

"We got out from there?" Logan asked with a thick voice. She nodded.

"Good. I remember… I remember something. You. Don't ever let me piss you off, kid," he said, chucking her chin with his knuckles playfully, offering her a wavering smile.

"It was that bad?" She asked.

"You don't remember?" She shook her head.

"I remember that I was cold. And there was something blue…"

"You were like a fucking Goddess," Logan whispered, clasping her face between his palms.

"A Goddess…" He murmured, pulling her closer and brushing her lips with his own, breathing in her scent and taste. Marie's cool lips pressed against his, her tongue whispering over his lower lip, demanding an entrance.

She was a force to recognize, blue cold light pulsing in the depth of her eyes, fingers in turn brushing lightly over his skin, in turn nails digging in, leaving deep furrows, but he craved for every touch, and returned the favor with his own caresses.

"Leave it on…" Logan whispered when she stripped off her clothes and started to pull off the adamantium mesh covering her from neck to mid-thigh. Cold metal brushed against her hardened nipples when she sat back to his lap. Logan had shrugged off his jeans. His thighs felt warm, almost hot against her skin. His hands crept under the metal tunic, brushing it upwards.

"Take me," Logan whispered against her lips, his hardened cock brushing her folds.

"Take me!" Almost desperate plea when she stalled, wanting to prolong the moment. She was ready, but wanted to look at him, see the man looking back when she slowly sunk around him, making them both hiss from the contact.

She was hot around him, hot and slick, but not burning. Alive, panting and squirming on his lap, core gripping his shaft, making him buck against her, plunging deeper with every stroke. Alive, muscles quivering, hands grasping, cold metal mesh between them rattling. Power from the field had burnt white streaks to her hair, and they framed her face, giving her almost ethereal look. She came, arching her back, head tilted backwards, primal scream tearing from her throat. He followed her, cock buried to the hilt, teeth locked around her throat, low growl answering to her scream.

"Oh, God… I may never walk again…" Marie groaned, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"It's okay… I'm not planning to move anytime soon…" Logan murmured, still out of breath, brushing a kiss to the top of her head, hands on her buttocks keeping them joined. This was good. Warm and throbbing Marie around him, scent of theirs mingling with the scents of the forest around them.

"But take this off," he said; tugging the adamantium tunic she wore. She rose slightly, shrugged it off and returned to his embrace.

"Why did you want me to leave it on?" She asked, enjoying the feel of soft skin against her over sensitized nipples.

"Felt like a good idea. The way you looked with it…" He didn't have to finish his sentence.

"That good?" She asked when he started hardening inside of her.

"Oh, yeah…"

"Logan? I don't think I can… It's too soon…" Her body was still recovering from her earlier orgasm. Logan kneaded her buttocks gently.

"I just want to sit in here. Just want to feel you. Let me hold you like this."

_Eve_

"Free Zone, my ass…" She heard Logan's angry snarl, and echo of something being kicked. She turned to look. A piece of bent metal with cuffs attached to it. Logan was glaring at it as if it would magically turn alive and attack him.

They had eaten and gotten dressed. Either of them knew where they were, or what would they do next, so they had decided to return to the rubbles of their prison, to see if there were something they could use. What they found confused Marie. Logan… He was beyond furious.

Few things had escaped the destructive force Marie had unleashed. Among them were three tightly locked archiving cabinets. Logan had cut them open. What they had found inside…

"They were mutants! Mutants testing and breeding mutants!" While Logan paced, clenching and unclenching his fists, kicking small pieces of debris, Marie was skimming through the files they had found. Sickening records of earlier prisoners of the Free Zone, and what had happened to them. What had been made to them. At first desperate attempts to find a way to hide the X-gene, hide it so that Army could no longer tell who was a mutant. Program failing. New one starting. New program with new agenda. Creation of a perfect mutant. With exactly right kind of genes. A super race, able to wipe out humans from the face of the earth. Page after page testing and failing, until she got to the last folder, labeled simply as Adam & Eve.

"Logan…" He was still pacing and ranting. She had to call him again before he paused to listen.

"They almost did it. They already had Adam."

"What are you talking about?" Logan asked, taking the folder from her.

"They had Adam. I was supposed to became Eve…" She felt sick.

_Subject Adam shows suitable levels of aggression and intelligence. Mutation is operational. Eve is quarantined. Necessary precautions have been taken. Birth control, vaccinations and hormonal injections have been given to her as planned. Hostile accompanying her during the quarantine shows…_

"Who, or what the fuck was this Adam?" Logan growled. It was quite apparent he was deemed as hostile, and not suitable genetic material for their purposes.

"I don't know. Adam is the only reference to him, or it, and this is the only file he's mentioned. Only that they had him. Nothing about his abilities, no pictures, nothing. This is creepy," Marie said shivering and wrapping her arms around her sides. Logan was flipping through the folder, fingers itching to get hold of this Adam. He threw the folder to the ground and started rummaging through the gutted cabinet Marie had found it from, hoping to find more information.

"Are we going to spend night out here?" Marie asked. She had been walking around, picking up small knick-knacks and packages of dried rations she was sure would prove useful later. Logan had pulled a tattered, thick book from the steel cabinet, and had sat last hours reading it, lost to the world. Judging from the look on his face book was quite informative. Suddenly he stood up and stuffed it to the backpack.

"We're leaving."

"Wait!" She had to run to keep up with his long strides, makeshift backpack wobbling against her back. Logan didn't stop, didn't turn to look, but kept walking. To where, she had no idea. Forest was dark around them, yet he seemed to know exactly where he was going.

"Logan! Wait!" Finally he stopped, so abruptly that she collided against his broad back. There was a building in front of them. A log cabin. Simple, weathered but sturdy looking. Logan just stood motionless, staring at it.

"What? What is this place?" Marie asked.

"Doesn't ring a bell?" Logan asked, turning to look at her. She shook her head, knowing Logan would see it even in darkness.

"It's home. Your home. You were born in there."

"I don't want you to see this shit in here. It's disgusting. But from what I found, your mom was one of the founders of the Free Zone. When it became apparent that they weren't able to hide the X-gene, she literally took it upon herself to create a perfect mutant, a perfect mother for a new, invulnerable race. Some of her co-workers refused to go along with her plan. After you were born, the man you thought was your father took you with him and run. He was the head of security back then. He was supposed to kill you. Don't know why he didn't. Years passed, and general consensus turned in favor to your mother. They tried again, many times, but they were unable to duplicate you. According to this they were quite flustered, but happy when they realized whom you were. They intended to let you stay with me until everything was ready. Adam was already waiting, horny as hell. Your child… Your children would have become mother and father of their new alpha-race." She stared at the book Logan was holding, nausea churning at the pit of her stomach.

"No. No. It wasn't like that. That's not what happened! My dad was a blacksmith. My mom died when I was just a baby. I… Dad never left the village. He said he had born there, and his parents were…" She was babbling and stuttering, backing away from the cabin, backing away from Logan and the book in his hands. The pouch she had gathered her belongings fell from her back when she stumbled backwards. She turned around and started running. Logan caught her easily, tackling her to the ground.

"I'm not some fucking experiment! I'm not!" She screamed. Logan turned her on her back, weight of his body pinning her to the ground.

"Yes, you are. You were part of their program, but it's over now. You took care of it."

"No!"

"Yes. And it doesn't make you a bad person. It doesn't make you different."

"No! I'm not an experiment…" Hard slap on her cheek silenced her. Logan's fingers dug painfully around her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

"They gave you life. You took it and made it yours. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud of yourself. You finished it. Made sure that nobody will suffer in their hands anymore."

"But…"

"Shut up. I know it's not much, but I love you. I won't allow you to speak about yourself as if you were anything less than perfect," Logan hissed, barely contained rage simmering in his eyes.

"We're both fucked up, but at least we have each other to rely on. You better accept it soon. If you don't, it will eat you until you break, and after that it's fucking hard to go on. Trust me. I speak from experience."

She wanted to speak, to say something. At least answer to his little slip up, but it was impossible. Tears had been gathering, and all she could do was to grasp a firm hold from him when dam broke. Either of them noticed a feral pair of eyes, observing them from distance.

_Adam_

They decided to stay at the cabin. She needed time to gather her thoughts, and they really had nowhere else to go. One good thing had come out of their imprisonment at the Free Zone. It had thrown the Army off from their backs.

There was almost nothing left of the original furnishing, but cabin had four solid walls, roof and a working fireplace. Logan was more than able to build a home from it to them. It gave him something to do while Marie was reading the book he had found from the remains of the Free Zone. At first he had been reluctant to give it to her. Person who had written it, had went to extreme details, describing every procedure that had been carried during the project Adam and Eve, including what would have been Marie's part in it. Finally, after she had begged, whined and griped for it he had grown tired of hearing it, and had thrown the book to Marie.

"It's beautiful!" Logan had done this before, for himself. Carved a bed. It had served it's purpose well, but he hadn't gotten this warm feeling of pride from accomplishing it that he got now when Marie's hand was caressing smooth, polished wooden surface, eyes twinkling with admiration. It had taken him a week. Week to find right pieces and coax the form out of them. They had slept on the floor on top of moss Marie that had gathered from the woods surrounding them, but tonight they would lay down to a bed. Thick layer of hay to the bottom, and on top of it a soft quilt they had salvaged from the ruins of the complex they had been held.

"Tomorrow I'll start with the table and chairs," Logan said when they sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. While he had been working on the bed and scouting their surroundings, Marie had found some pots and pans strewn around the cabin. Some of them were rusted through, but few of them were in good enough shape for cooking. They had rations, Logan had managed to bring down a small deer, and now, close to midwinter all kind of berries and seeds were ready and ripe, just waiting for somebody to pick them up.

"Season won't last long. We better start to gather and dry these. You will need vitamins later," Logan said around mouthful of blueberries. Marie tilted her head.

"Huh? Later? What do you mean?" She asked. She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn Logan actually blushed before looking away from her. When he turned to look at her again, he was completely serious.

"Something I hadn't really thought about came to my mind when they put you on birth control back there. That shot won't last forever."

"Oh…"

"Yeah. You will get pregnant. Sooner or later."

"But can't you… I thought you could smell…"

"When you're 'catching'? No. I can tell the difference in your scent, and now I know nothing's going to happen because of that shot. But that stuff they put in to you was artificial. I don't have the slightest idea how to tell the difference with real hormones. I have never had to deal with this kind of things before," Logan explained.

"Okay…"

"Does it bother you?" He asked.

She hadn't even thought about it. Of course she knew how babies were born. What gave them life. That had been something she hadn't had the time to think about. Now that Logan brought it up she wasn't sure how to react.

"I don't know…" She said. Logan looked mildly taken aback.

"If this is some shit about that stupid project again…"

"No! No, that has nothing to do with this! I just haven't really thought about it… Guess I have just assumed that it was something I wouldn't have to worry about, not yet anyway." And that clearly wasn't the right answer.

"Worry about? Having a baby is something to worry about for you?" Logan asked, eyes widening from disbelief.

"It's a big responsibility. And before I met you I always thought there wouldn't even be a chance for me to have that. To get this close with somebody, let alone have a child. I don't think I'm ready for it. Not yet." That was the truth. Up until Marie met Logan, she hadn't been able to touch anybody as intimately as she could touch him. Logan huffed, grim lines settling over his face and stood up.

"Fine. I'll be outside if you need anything…"

"Why does he have to be such a jerk? All I said was that I'm not ready yet. Yet. As in it wouldn't be a good idea to have a baby right now…" Marie muttered angrily, staring at the pile of dirty dishes in front of her. She should go and wash them before they dried up. There was a well behind the cabin, and next to it a pile of soft sand. It had obviously been used for washing dishes and dirty clothes.

"Screw him. Screw the dishes," she spat, curled on the bed with the book Logan had found, and started reading.

He started to remember why he had chosen to live alone rather than find a companion. Taking another person in to your life meant taking on responsibilities as well. He didn't do that. Hadn't done that. Now he started to feel chains tightening around him. He wanted to run, as far as he could, as fast as he could, and at the same time he was horrified from the mere thought of leaving Marie. She wasn't ready to have children? Well' who the fuck ever was?

"And who the fuck would want to have my children?" He spoke out loud the question that had floated to his mind when Marie had been explaining why she felt it wasn't the right time for that yet. Only God knew, or more likely only Satan knew what had been done to him and his genes when he had been in the Army. That combined with genetic altering that had been done to Marie… No. Better not to think about it.

He was trudging through his usual route, checking surroundings out of a habit. The whole week they had spent here he had been scouting their surroundings, and it had become clear that their closest neighbors were animals scurrying around in the forest. No humans or mutants close enough for him to detect.

"Doesn't hurt to be careful…" He muttered, crouching down. There was something on the ground. Something that hadn't been there yesterday. Small piece of concrete. He picked it up. Noticed a trail of hoof prints and distinctive scent of a deer next to it and threw it down.

"But paranoia is a different thing altogether," he grunted, standing up and wiping his hands to his denim clad thighs.

… _Doctor D'Acanto was reluctant to let us observe the procedure, and when it was over, she announced that she would be moving out. Whole team opposed her decision. It wasn't wise. The whole project was… It was an abomination. Everything we had kept sacred, lines we wowed not to cross were broken…_

"Ugh…" Who ever had written the book hadn't left a name behind, but judging from the sheer amount of details and information it had had to be somebody close to her mother. A boyfriend? No. Too cold and professional. Maybe a longtime co-worker? Marie glanced up from the book and pinched the bridge of her nose. Reading gave her a headache. She had perfect eyesight as far as she knew, so it wasn't the act of reading itself, but the material she was wading through. There was so much of it. She had gotten only halfway through the book, page after page descriptions of failures, but now it started to look like the writer had been writing about her. Small thud from the front porch made her discard the book. Had Logan returned?

He decided to return to the Free Zone once more. He was on a mission. Hay and quilt were better than nothing, but he had a hunch he could find a real mattress from underneath the rubble. All he had to do was to dig deep enough. Quarantine quarters were left virtually intact; most of Marie's destructive power had been focused to upper levels of the compound.

Sun was setting when he reached the Free Zone. For a moment he hesitated. It could take all night to find an entrance from under the debris. He should at least go and tell Marie where he was. Or rather go home and return to hunt the mattress in the morning.

"Shit." He had overreacted. Now it was time to crawl back and beg for forgiveness.

When she opened the door, she expected to see Logan sitting on the porch, maybe hunched over a log and carving it, like he had been many nights before when he was crafting their bed. Empty porch and front yard greeted her instead. She closed the door and returned to her book. And heard it again. Distinctive thud, like somebody walking on the porch. She shook her head. This had happened before. The night of the fire. She had heard imaginary voices and run, and it had gotten her in trouble. Instead of running now she concentrated to the book in her hands, blocking all strange sounds out. They were not important. They were nothing. They didn't even exist. Especially that one that sounded like somebody was sniffing and panting just outside of the door. Nope. Not real.

"Logan!"

He was walking slowly back towards the cabin, trying to form a polite way to apologize his childish behavior. Words had never been his strong suit. Sometimes they came out exactly right, but more often he managed to sound the greatest bastard that walked on the earth.

"Marie, I'm…" I'm what? Sorry? Asshole? Moron? All of them? Yeah. Definitely all of them. First one was a good thing and last time he checked latter two weren't a crime. His ears perked. A voice.

"Marie, I'm… what the fuck?" Voice was calling him. Marie's voice. Marie was screaming his name from the top of her lungs.

_Hunting Camo_

Cabin looked undisturbed, everything on the front porch exactly like he left it when he went inside to eat with Marie. Door was closed. When he tried to open it, he found it locked. He had installed a crude lock on it, holders on both sides of the doorframe, and sturdy branch to lift on top of them when they slept. Again Marie screamed. Not even a word anymore, just a scream. He threw his full weight against the door once, twice, before it gave up and opened, revealing their one-room home, Marie standing on the bed and screaming her lungs out. Scanning the cabin even as he crossed the floor with long stride and pulled Marie to his arms he found nothing unusual. Nothing threatening. Just usual scents, him and Marie, wood, smoke, mice that lived under the floorboards, scents coming from outside only those he had come to relate to this place.

"Something was outside. At first I thought it was you. Then it started sniffing and scratching the door and…"

"Marie, calm down. It was probably just a fox. I have seen couple of those running around," Logan tried to calm her, cradling her against his chest, but she pushed away from him and threw him an icy glare.

"Foxes do not growl and curse before running off. Well, growl, maybe, but I'm quite sure 'fuck' isn't part of their vocabulary."

His hackles rose. He let go of Marie and stood up. Walked stiffly to the front porch and drew in scent. And there was big fat nothing. Nothing at all. But that didn't mean a thing. He had been wrong before. He hadn't caught the scent of the other Destroyer, the one that had made them leave his bunker. Nostrils flared again, claws shot out from their sheaths and before he realized what he was doing, railing of the porch and front door were decorated with distinctive marks gauged by his claws. Huff, snort and roar with bared teeth, directed to nobody, and to everybody, and claws slid back in and he felt little more himself again. More in control. Safe enough to go back in, where Marie was waiting, her scent telling she understood the situation better than him.

"Adam. It was Adam." As soon as whisper left her lips, Logan grimaced.

"Fucker can't be that durable. You obliterated that place." Couldn't be. Shouldn't be. If he was, they were truly, utterly fucked.

"Has there been anything about him in this?" Logan asked picking up the book Marie had discarded earlier. Marie shook her head.

"But I haven't read it all. I just got to the part where doctor… Mom decided to move in here," she said.

"We have some studying to do tonight. But first I'm going to fix that door. At least it will slow him down a little if he tries to come and get you."

"Camo. He's really called Camo. Adam is only his code name for this project," Marie said. Logan had been tinkering with the door, trying to find a best way to block it. Marie had been reading, skimming through the book with fast pace.

"Let me see," Logan asked, reaching for the book.

… _We came across few suitable specimens, results of earlier programs. One of them especially caught our interest. Camo. Fast healer, able to change his outer appearance and scent. Strong. With enhanced senses. Intelligent. Able to turn to invisible brief periods of time. Those abilities combined with Eve's…_

Logan slammed the book shut, snorting from disgust when sharp metallic tang of fear settled to his tongue. That thing was something else. As if somebody had designed it to fool the likes of him. He wouldn't be able to see or smell him. Not before he got too close. And there had been no information about his aggressive abilities. Stuff that had been listed was purely defensive mutations, much like Marie's skin. There had to be something more. Because things the book described could have been written about Logan.

"If it's him, he won't try anything in two-three weeks," Logan said. Marie quirked a questioning eyebrow to him.

"He's after you because he wants to mate. There's no use doing that if you're not ready for it. He will wait until the BC-shot they gave you wears off. After that…" He didn't have to finish his sentence. Marie's mind filled the blank. Image of a beast-like man insane from lust, barging through the door Logan had kicked in just few hours ago made her whimper.

"I won't let him get to you. I'll find him and take care of him before anything happens. He won't get his paws on you, I promise." He was going to keep that promise. No matter what it would take, he would keep it.

"And from now on, I won't let you out of my sight. We start doing things together again." For the past week Marie had been reading, arranging the cabin and wandering around in the forest for her own amusement while Logan had been patrolling and hunting. That was going to end.

"We'll hunt together…"

Marie slept few hours they had left before the sunrise on the bed, fully clothed. Logan lay curled on his side, facing the door and Marie curled against his back. He had spread a thin layer of sand to the floor, hoping that if he were wrong about his earlier assessment of Camo and fucker decided to come for Marie, he would see his tracks in the sand and could locate him before he got too close. Hunt together? Now, there was a joke. Play bait together would be more appropriate. He wasn't going to search Camo. It would be futile. Logan was going to prod and poke his senses until that bastard had no other choice but to come forward and reveal himself.

"No. Take them off." Marie threw a hesitant glance towards him. Logan had been acting all weird after she had woken up. Now she was getting dressed, ever present adamantium chain mail sliding against her skin when she was tugging on jeans and a t-shirt.

"Off?" She asked puzzled.

"Everything except the mail. Off. Now."

"Okay…" She really didn't think it was appropriate attire, but if it was what Logan wanted…

"Put your boots on." Ugly, clunky and sturdy shoes with a worn look on them. She would need them if Camo came to play. Soles of her feet were too soft to run through woods barefoot.

"Weren't we supposed to go hunting?" Marie asked when Logan shrugged off his shirt, leaving only his jeans and boots on.

"We are going to hunt. My way…"

She barely got out of the cabin when Logan suddenly pushed her hard enough to send her on her hands and knees in front of the porch.

"Hey! Ow!" she started to get up, but Logan was on her in a flash, pushing her to the ground with his foot. She could feel the sole of his boot through the mail she wore.

"Logan! What the…" One hand tangled to her hair and other clamped over her mouth. Logan was now crouching over her, bending her neck almost painfully and leaning closer. Close enough to lick her earlobe and give her throat a small nip, growling and purring.

"I won't hurt you…" She could hear him whisper almost inaudibly, but it was clear he wasn't going to explain his actions.

"Oh, God…" She whimpered when Logan's palm left her mouth and slid under the mail, grasping her breasts roughly and tweaking her nipples.

He couldn't deny it. Sight of Marie, on her hands and knees in front of him made his blood boil and every part of him harden in a new way. He wanted her like this. Helpless, defenseless, completely at his mercy. He knew this would have worked better if she was naked, but mail was for protection. Boots gave her protection from Camo. Mail protected Marie from Logan himself.

He was still forcing her to stay down, head bent uncomfortably backwards, his knee pressing against her back and one of his hands kneading her breasts.

"I'm going to make you come. I'm going to make you scream my name. Then I'm going to fuck you until you scream no more. You're mine, and after this you will smell like it, too…" Logan murmured with a low, surprisingly loud voice, and suddenly it clicked. She realized what he was doing. She let out a low moan and arched her back before rolling around carefully. Logan was now straddling her ribcage, one fist still tangled firmly to her hair.

"Take me. Make me yours…" She pleaded, rubbing his thighs.

"On your fucking knees!" Logan growled, yanked her around and gave her buttocks a swift slap. Then the hand fondling her breasts pulled her harshly against his chest, knee shoved her legs apart and she could feel his other hand disappearing between them, fingers spreading her lower lips none too gently.

"Logan…" Dull teeth lodged over her throat with a furious snarl, forcing her to silence again.

He knew he was taking this too far. Even when her scent told him she wasn't afraid or hurt, this was the ultimate humiliation. He closed his eyes. Marie. It was Marie. He was baiting Camo, but it was Marie in his hands. Her tight, slick core around his finger. He withdrew that finger and found her clit, already swollen. He could hear her soft gasp when he slid the pad of his finger over it.

"That's it… It's me. It's just me, Marie. I'm not going to hurt you…" He could only hope Camo wouldn't hear his whispered assurances. Marie was shivering and spreading her legs even further apart.

"Logan, please…"

Suddenly he let go of her, letting her fall to the ground and stood up.

"Look up." Her mind and body were still reeling from the feelings his rough handling had woken.

"Look the fuck up!" Command was spoken more harshly and she made a conscious effort to obey. Logan was staring at her, heated gaze flicking every now and then to the surrounding forest. Thin sheen of perspiration covered his skin. His cock was straining at his jeans, and he was stroking the bulge lazily.

"You want this?" He asked.

"Do you want this?" He growled when she didn't answer. Marie nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Say it. Tell me what you want." She crawled to him on her hands and knees, grasping his thigh and nuzzling her face against the denim of his jeans. Logan shrugged her off, still stroking himself.

"What do you want?" He repeated his question again.

"I… Take me. Fill me," she managed to moan.

"I will," Logan snarled, pushing her on her knees again. She could hear him opening his jeans.

"Up. Stand up." She did as she was told. Logan's hands landed on her shoulders and bent her forward until she had to lean against the railing of the porch for support. With one swift stroke Logan slammed his cock inside of her. Claws erupted from his knuckles, making his grip from her shoulders tighten painfully, and she could hear his roar, and her own scream echoing through the woods surrounding the cabin.

Another animalistic sound drowned the echo they had created. Something impacted to them from the side, tearing them apart. Marie scurried hiding under the cabin. Logan was down, but unharmed and conscious. Air around him was rippling, like on a hot day above tar. Something was circling him, howling and wailing furiously. Camo had taken the bait.

_The new Adam_

She expected Logan to bolt on his feet. Instead he stayed down on his back, leaning against his elbows, and it looked as if he tried to avoid Camo with his gaze, turning his head slightly every time the other mutant came to his field of vision. What the hell was he doing?

"I'm not going to look at you until you show yourself!" Logan shouted over Camo's ranting. Sudden silence fell. Distorted patch of air in front of him started to solidify, until he could see faint outlines of a man. Few second more, and Camo stood there, panting, green eyes blazing from rage and grief, whole body shivering from pent up energy.

"She's mine. You're not going to touch her anymore," Camo hissed, narrowing his eyes. He was naked. His skin was blotchy, with all imaginable colors imprinted on it. He was built much like Logan, muscular upper body, narrow waist and well-defined muscles bulging on his legs and arms. His face was oval-shaped. Dark, greenish hair slicked back, eyes glowing green.

"Bullshit. She belongs to nobody," Logan spat, standing up slowly, eyeing Camo warily. He sheathed his claws and fastened his jeans. Camo's nostrils flared.

"She's not ready yet. But I'll be taking her with me anyway. She's better off with me than a savage like you," he said, turning towards cabin.

"Like hell you will. I won't let you take her. There's no Adam. There's no Eve. She terminated the project. Let her be, or…"

"Or what? You cut me up with your claws?" Camo snorted, twirling to face Logan, transforming until he was a perfect replica of him, slightly crouched, claws extending from his knuckles.

"That's all you're good for, Wolverine…"

She heard Camo calling Logan Wolverine. Logan tilted his head and his eyes narrowed.

"You have done your homework. You know what I do. You know I'm pretty damn impossible to put down. You really want to waltz with me?" He asked, mimicking Camo's stance, claws sliding out once again.

It was unnerving, to not be able to smell your opponent. He had to play this by earshot, and good guessing never replaced the information you could collect from the scents coming off from the guy you were planning to chop up. Especially when said man was laughing at you.

"Big words from a small man! Yes, I want to have a go with you. In fact, I insist it. How else we are going to settle our little dispute?" Camo practically purred.

He had been waiting for it. Without scent he had been gouging Camo's behavior, small telltales his body was sending. Camo was hard to read, but when he twitched slightly, Logan knew what to expect. When Camo charged towards him, claws so much like Logan's extended, looking like he was planning to ram them through his gut, instead of retreating Logan stepped right on his path. Claws only nicked his side, and Camo barreled face first against his chest, making Logan stumble backwards before plunging his own claws through Camo's back.

Instead of pained howl he had expected to hear, Camo was laughing again, spewing blood over Logan's chest.

"My turn!" He fell on his knees in front of Logan, dove between his legs and before Logan had the time to react, Camo had plunged his claws straight through his back. He could see tips of them protruding from his stomach.

"Fuck, that hurts every time…" He gasped, twisting free, wounds already closing when he turned and kneed Camo under his jaw before other man had the time to stand up. He could hear bone fracturing, but he knew Camo's jaw wouldn't stay broken long.

It was brutal. Blood, gaping wounds, both men squirming and growling, teeth gnashing, limbs tangling, trading kicks and blows. She had no idea, which one of them was Logan; both looked the same, acted like mirror images of each other. That's when she finally realized how serious the situation was. No matter who won, she would have to face the last one standing, alone. With no way of telling was it Logan or Camo. And she froze.

He could smell her fear. Marie was scared to shitless. Well, that made two of them. He couldn't, wouldn't let Camo take her, but what ever he threw to the guy, what ever moves he tried, Camo countered them. Laughed them off like they were nothing. Camo couldn't get in his swipes and stabs either, but that wasn't much of a consolation. Checkmate. They would beat each other up until one of them tired enough to make a mistake.

Finally he had that bastard pinned. He was straddling Camo's thighs, both sets of claws rammed through his chest, tips of them sunken to the ground beneath them. Camo was struggling, and with every move Logan's claws sliced the wounds on his chest little wider. He could feel Camo's heart pulsing against the blades.

"Eve… I let her down… There were others… Keep her safe, Adam…" Man gurgled.

"I will." Logan shifted a bit, lifting his right hand. Claws came out from Camo with sickening sound of metal grinding against bone. He sliced Camo's head off before falling backwards on top of his legs. He lay there for a while, his knees bent, thighs stretching quite uncomfortably.

He was out of breath, covered with sweat and other bodily fluids, and not even half of that stuff was his. Yet when he rose back up he was staring at his own decapitated image. He managed to scramble off from the corpse and turn his back on it before acrid bile rising to the back of his throat made him gag. In the end Camo had lost one part of his mutation. Logan could now smell him. Smell blood, shit, puke and something dark and earthen underneath it all. Adam? So he was the fucking Adam now? Nominated to the job by the bastard who had stalked Marie. That thought made it impossible to brush back bile that was tickling his tonsils.

She had curled to a tight ball, deep under the cabin. Hiding her face behind her hands, trying to make herself disappear out of sheer willpower. Envying Camo. Fearing him. Fearing the outcome of the battle. When heavy footsteps approached and stopped in front of the porch, she didn't look up. She nearly stopped breathing. She could hear small creaking sound, soaked denim chafing against skin. Somebody was crouching.

"I'm going to take care of few things. Stay put," she heard Logan's voice telling. Voice was his, but who she would see if she opened her eyes?

He dragged the body further to the forest, kicking the head in front of him as he went. Animals would take care of it, he was sure. He had seen several species of scavengers during the time they had spent in the cabin. He would just have to make sure Marie didn't wander to this direction anytime soon.

That task taken care of he returned to cabin. Marie was still shivering under the porch. Good. He wouldn't have to chase her down later. He walked around the cabin, going to the well at the backside of it. He had to get all the muck off before it dried on him. He couldn't stand the stench of it any longer.

Water was cold, but it was fresh, clear and clean. After dousing several buckets of it on him Logan stripped off his jeans and boots. Boots were okay. Those he could wash. Jeans he would burn. Few more buckets of water, and he felt clean enough to enter the cabin. He crossed the porch carefully, making some noise that Marie realized he wasn't trying to sneak around. Found a pair of black pants. Not as comfortable as jeans would have been, but he donned them, and loose fitting black shirt he found. Took a kettle filled with berries and walked outside with it. Sat on the ground, keeping good distance between him and the porch and started eating. Marie would come out eventually. He knew she needed this. Needed to see which one of her suitors had won.

_Hiding_

"It's getting dark, Marie. Would you like to come out from there?" He had been sitting in front of the porch for hours. There was no answer to his question.

"Marie? Would you please come out?" He was too big to fit under the porch; she would have to come out on her own.

"Shit. Kid? I'm going to bed. You know what to do if you get cold." He stood up, brushing off small twigs and leaves from the back of his pants before going inside.

She was watching the man. He was just sitting there, throwing a glance towards her every now and then. She wanted to go to him, but she couldn't. He looked like Logan, but as easily he could have been Camo. It was warm day, but air under the cabin was cool, even chilly. She was shivering so hard that she was sure man heard rattling and clinking of her adamantium mail. She wanted to go to him, to crawl on his lap and soak up the warmth she was sure he would radiate, but she was too afraid to leave the safety of the porch. So she shivered and watched, waiting for what he would do next. He had called her kid. That didn't mean a thing. For lots of people she looked like one. She flinched a bit when he stood up, but it was a false alarm. He just went inside. She could hear floorboards creaking when he was walking around. Scent of smoke drifted by. She ventured deeper under the cabin and came across the foundation of the fireplace. It was slightly warm, and getting warmer every minute. She curled next to it, trying to imagine that it was Logan's broad back, shielding her from troubles and dangers that were lurking behind every corner.

He could hear her shuffling around under the floor. Seeking warmth from the stones of the fireplace. Shock. Had to be it. She would have to come out of it on her own. He added few logs to the crackling fire and lay down on the floor in front of it. It didn't feel right to go alone to the bed he had made for both of them.

He was sleeping. She crept closer, careful not to wake him. She had come here to get some clothes. Backpack lay next to him. She reached for it, fingers brushing over the canvas before curling around the strap.

He could hear her. She was really trying. Trying to stay unnoticed. He couldn't hear metallic clinking of the mail. She must have taken it off. Smart kid. He couldn't risk scaring her, so he stayed where he lay, on his stomach, but cracked one eye slightly open. She was naked. Opening the backpack. Hands trembling, struggling to stay silent. Scent of her fear fell heavy on him, constricting around his throat like a garrote. He fought to stay down. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to go and hold her, stop her from leaving, but he knew it would be a mistake. He had been in the same state as she was, had gone through it years ago. As much as he had wanted and craved for human contact, someone to hold him, he had known that he would have broken out of that embrace and run in terror.

She kept her eyes trained to him and pushed her hand in to the backpack, freezing when her fingers rustled something inside. He had to have heard it. She let go of the bag and bolted out.

He sat up rubbing his face after she left. She would fucking freeze to death, running around naked. Granted, winter was approaching and nights were getting warmer, but they were not warm enough to run around wearing nothing but your birthday suit. He took clothes she had worn earlier, folded them neatly and took them to porch.

"I'll go back inside. You're welcome to join me when you feel like it. Camo's gone for good, but don't wander too far. We don't know if there's others like him sneaking around," he spoke softly, knowing full well Marie was crouching under his feet, just relatively thin layer of wood separating them.

"I left you some clothes. If you're hungry, you have to come inside. Can't leave food out here, draws animals."

She waited until the door closed after him before snatching the clothes and dressing up. She already felt better. He acted like the Logan she knew. Would Camo have accepted this kind of behavior from her? She couldn't be sure. Hungry? She was starving. But she wasn't going to let him lure her in to a trap. It wasn't like she didn't know where to find food. There were berries and nuts everywhere she looked.

He sat on the porch, rising sun warming his face. He felt cold. Cold and tired. He had tried to sleep, but then he had heard Marie sneaking off. He had followed her secretly, noting pleased that she knew how to take care of herself. Alert, even when picking up stuff to eat. Eating straight from the bushes, ready to move if something threatening came to view. Pleased, and sad. She didn't need him. There would be no reason for her to come back to him. She could stay out here all by herself. She had absolutely no reason to learn to trust him anymore.

She looked at him from the distance, hiding behind thick bushes. He was sitting there, blank look on his face, hands curled around his sides. Hair tousled from combing his fingers through it. Logan or Camo. Which one? Which one lay dead next to her? Which one was sitting out there, obviously missing her? She didn't know, she couldn't tell, and it made her let out a frustrated whine. She wanted to go to him, to look at him and see Logan looking back, but she knew she couldn't have dealt with it if she went there now only to find out that Logan was dead.

"Fuck." His mood was getting sour. What the hell did she want from him? For two days he had been walking on eggshells, trying to assure her he wasn't going to jump on her and make her pop out babies. It was getting on his nerves. She wasn't getting better. Not this way. Not him trying to bend over backwards to keep her sheltered when she obviously went to extreme measures to stay out of his reach.

"Kid, you better get over here. Now. You don't want me to come and get you!"

He was getting impatient. Pacing back and forth in front of the cabin, hands clasped behind his back. She retreated deeper in the forest. She had stayed longer than it was safe. Birth control was still active, but that wouldn't stop Camo from raping her anyway. If he was Camo.

Heaven help him. He was stalking after her, trailing her scent through the woods. Exactly what he shouldn't do. But enough was enough. Enough sleeping alone on the cold, hard floor. Enough of seeing flashes of her from the corner of his eye. Fucking enough of her scent, scared and hesitant wafting in the air around the cabin. He would hunt her down and bring her back to his life even if it killed them both.

_Getting Lost_

Night was warm around him. Predator in him spurred him on. He would find her, he was sure of it.

Up until now he had seen Marie as something to protect. A small and fragile creature, capable of power if needed to, but mainly for him to protect. Now he saw completely new side of her. A prey, scared out of her wits, making him run in circles out of confusion and hesitation. First he was pushing through bushes, nosing out her scent, next thing he realized he was backing away, nausea churning inside of him, hating the way he was acting.

Trail was warm; she couldn't be too far ahead. In fact, if he strained his hearing a bit… Telltale rustling of dry leaves. Near by. So close that all he had to do was to reach out and…

"Fuck!" Very confused and angry squirrel sunk its teeth to his palm. He resisted the urge to squish the critter and placed it on the ground. Squirrel took off. He sat down and rubbed his face tiredly. It was a warm trail, but it was apparent that he wasn't going to find Marie. Not if she didn't want to be found. He could hear rustling again. It was either Marie, or that squirrel, planning to take its revenge. Which ever it was, he was too tired to care.

He huffed and picked a dry twig from the ground between his legs and started snapping it to small bits and pieces.

"I'm sick of this. You can go and grab anything you need from the cabin. I'll wait here. I'll give you an hour. I won't come after you."

He gave her two hours. Two hours wandering around. It had been fun while it lasted. He had known eventually something would drive them apart, but he had pushed that thought out of his mind. Closed his eyes and enjoyed every moment he could spend with her. He had been hurt. She had been hurt. But it had been worth it. Every drop of blood he had shed was worth every second he had spent with her.

Cabin was undisturbed when he returned. Front door hung open, exactly as he had left it. He couldn't bring himself to go in. Not yet. Instead he walked to the well. Threw a bucket in and waited until it was full. Lifted it up and drank. Water was good. Cold but good. He could hear all kinds of animals scurrying around, minding their own business in the dark. He could stay here over the winter. Hunt. Sleep. Get over her. He knew sooner or later his feet would start itching. With nothing to hold him in place he would start roaming again. Which wasn't necessary a bad thing. As much as he detested human company, without it he would get lost. He had worked too hard to restore his humanity to toss it away just because he was hurting.

His boots fell heavy to the porch. He clunked off sand and small stones gathered to their soles before stepping in. Tilted his head. Marie was there. Sitting on the bed. Upon seeing him she cringed and pulled her legs against her chest, but she didn't flee. He turned and closed the door. After careful consideration he bolted it. She could get out if she wanted, but she would have to make a conscious effort to do that.

She still had her doubts, but she was tired. Tired, cold and hungry. If she would have to endure Camo's advances and eventual copulations with him, fine. As long as he kept her fed and safe. When the man entered and closed the door she suppressed the sudden pang of fear. Who ever he was, it had become quite clear he didn't appreciate horrified partner.

"You find food from the cupboard, clothes from the backpack. I'm going to bed." He started shedding his clothes, pondering weather to take off everything. He could scare her. Well, fuck her. She would learn eventually. He stripped off his jeans and climbed to the bed, scooting behind her. He could feel her tensing.

"Good night, Marie," he muttered, closing his eyes.

He woke up little later when bed dipped. Marie. She had hopped off and was walking towards the fireplace.

"Where are you going?" He asked. She stopped and stood frozen on the middle of the room.

"Kid? Come here." She turned and walked to him with stiff legs, reluctance evident on her face. He held up the quilt and patted vacant spot beside him.

"Hop in." she did as he told her to do, settling next to him on her back, hands clutched rigidly over her stomach, trembling from tension.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax…"

Relax? If she could make herself believe this was Logan, maybe she could let go and melt to his embrace, but right now she was expecting Camo to jump on her and pound her in to mattress.

"I'm going to hold you now. Because goddamned… It's… I don't fucking know what to do anymore! Don't freak out on me, okay?" He was talking and sliding his hand over her, turning her back against his torso, molding her against his muscular frame.

"Here. Isn't this better than being alone?"

Her heart was pounding against her ribcage so hard he was afraid it would shatter the bones surrounding it. At least she had stopped shivering.

"He's gone, and no matter who else comes after you, they will be dealt with, too. Go to sleep. You're safe with me." There was no fear in her scent anymore, but he started missing it as soon as stench of desperation and defeat hit his nostrils.

"I give up," he heard her whisper.

"You don't have to hold me. I won't run away. I promise."

"But I want to hold you. I missed you. Still miss you…" He whispered, wrapping his hands even tighter around her and burying his face to the side of her throat, nuzzling her pulse point lightly with his nose. Her skin was warming up.

"What will it take to make you see the truth? Camo is gone. You're with me. You have nothing to be afraid of," he said when she cringed from his touch and fear in her scent spiked up again.

"I don't know…"

"Well, let me know when you figure it out…" He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, trying to find something familiar underneath confusing and rather rankling mess it had turned.

They settled to uncomfortable co-existence. Did daily chores that needed to be done, gathered food and storage it, repaired what needed repairing and scavenged the ruins of the Free Zone. Marie wasn't trying to avoid him, didn't try to run, and Logan did his best to assure her about his identity. It wasn't working so well, but unexpected situation arose. They had been digging the ruins, still looking for the entrance to sublevels, when heavy slab of concrete fell over Logan, knocking him unconscious and pinning him to the ground from waist below.

He woke up alone. Team had cleared the place and left him behind. Standard procedure in combat. You fell, nobody came looking for you. You had to make your way back to the camp by yourself. Only few escaped. It was safer to tag along the Army than try to make it through the lines on your own. Both sides took prisoners, and their treatment… Mere thought of what would happen if enemy found him now made him shiver. He had already spent more time in enemy hands than he cared to remember. At least most of the prisoners had one hope, dying after handling got too rough. He didn't have that privilege. Even collared his mutation managed to keep him alive.

He tensed. Somebody was approaching. From behind. Light footsteps. Small unit. Friend or foe? He tried to crane his neck, and managed to catch a glimpse of a girl. A clone? No. Scent of BC wafted to his nose. Breeder. Fucking marvelous. Breeders had usually only one thing on their mind.

"Are you alright?" She asked, staying out of his reach.

"I will be as soon as I can get this off from me," he grunted, patting the slab of concrete covering his legs.

"Should I… Can I help?" Does the bear shit in the woods?

"Yeah. Go and find a sturdy branch." He watched her running off. If he were lucky, she would remember what to do when she found that branch and come back to him with it instead of wandering away.

No matter who that man was, she had to help him. He seemed to be quite skilled in survival, something she would have to learn from him. He couldn't teach her if he was dead. Granted, both Logan and Camo were practically immortal, but even their mutations had their limits. Sturdy branch… She finally spotted one probably strong enough, that she could use to wedge him loose from under part of a wall that had collapsed on him.

Looked like this one wasn't as dimwitted as the rest of the Breeders. She returned with dry but sturdy looking pole, and without waiting instructions jammed it between the concrete slab and a pile of rocks.

"I'll try to rock it loose, but you have to tell me if it feels like it starts to fall on you," she said, concentrating to the task at hand.

"Yeah." Definitely smarter than most of the Breeders. And from the looks of it a first-timer. Most Breeders were constantly either knocked up, or dragging their stretched stomachs, trying to find a suitable partner. This one had firm-looking body. And this one was quite young. Funny-looking white stripes on her hair. She was grimacing and huffing, her body trembling. He could feel weight on his legs shifting. It was working, but she was doing it wrong. She would sprain something if she kept pushing.

"Stop. Straighten your back and bend your knees." There. Good deed of the day done. She wouldn't be much use for him if she got hurt before he got out of this trap.

Finally he was able to crawl away from under that rock. He stood up slowly, observing his surroundings. He had no recollection of how he ended up in her in the first place. His gaze landed on the Breeder. She was walking towards the forest.

"I think I saw some blueberries while I was looking for that branch. I'll go and get them. We already have enough dried ones, but I was thinking I could make some soup tonight…" Soup? Right. Breeders had more privileges when it came to food. He shook his head. He had no idea how close the enemy lines they were. He couldn't let her wander off. He would need her to guide him back to the camp.

"Hey! Wait up!" He shouted after her. She stopped and turned to look at him. Really look at him. Tilted her head, squinted her eyes and everything. Then suddenly she let out a shriek, charging towards him, arms spread like wings. Claws extended. He couldn't smell a threat, but she sure acted like she would become one soon. He had seen a Breeder go berserk over a dead offspring, and it hadn't been a pretty sight. Afterwards there had been almost nothing left of the destroyer that had killed the baby.

Instead of attacking him Breeder dodged his claws and wrapped her hands around his waist, burying her head against his chest, making him stumble backwards before he gained his balance again.

"Get your hands off before I lop them off." Voice was cold and bitter. She had been so overjoyed of the sight of the Wolverine, a tangible proof that Logan was alive, that she had forgotten the first rule. The most important rule. Shiver run down her spine and she backed off from the Destroyer, gaze lowered to the ground, shoulders hunched. Small. Small, casual movements. Not a threat. Not a threat. Hands visible. Do not look at him. Back off slowly… Her body disobeyed. She turned around and started to run.

Fucking unbelievable. Enemy after all. He started after her. He would have to catch her before she got back to her own camp. He wasn't going to let her alert possible capturers. She was fast, but not fast enough. He could outrun her easily. She was stupid enough to turn every now and then to look if he was following.

Last glance was too much. She realized it when something rolled from under her foot making her stumble and fall on her hands and knees. It was all over. Heavy weight landed on her back. Wolverine. She was out of breath and trembling when he rolled her over, straddling her thighs and pinning her wrists above her head, face looming just inches from hers.

"Thought you could get away from me?" Those yellow eyes scanning her face. Nostrils flaring. One hand tangling to her hair, other hovering over her ribcage.

"What's your status?" She could only stare at him. She had no idea what he was speaking about.

"What's your status, bitch?" Hard yank from her hair made her wince.

"I don't understand…"

"Your fucking mutation! What's your mutation?"

Definitely first-timer. Probably on training. Only reason to put perfectly healthy Breeder on BC. What she did on the front line was a mystery, but unimportant right now.

"My skin. I can drain life force and mutations," she stuttered.

"Good." He wouldn't cut her up. Not yet. They could probably use her offspring back in the camp. There had to be somebody able to fuck with her. First he would have to find his way back there, but that couldn't be so hard. All he had to do was to find fresh enough trail of his team.

"You're coming with me."

_Returning home_

Breeder had tried to struggle, so he had knocked her unconscious and tied her with his belt. Confused he noted the state of his clothing. He was dressed as a civilian. Gone were the uniform and combat boots. Instead of them he wore soft, black trousers and a shirt, with brown, worn looking biker boots. He let it slip out of his mind. He was sure everything would clear up as soon as he got back to the camp. Most likely he had been caught by the enemy, and this time he had managed to escape. Clothes were probably stolen from somewhere. He hefted Breeder to his shoulders and gazed around. He could catch a faint whiff of his own scent, coming from somewhere deeper in the forest. He had been there. Logically thinking he should head to the opposite direction.

She woke up disoriented and groggy, her head lolling against his shoulder, body draped over his neck like a stola. Logan? Or Wolverine? She tried to move to a more comfortable position. World tilted and he dropped her to the ground. Yellow eyes swept over her. Wolverine. She took in their surroundings. Scorching hot desert. Kilometer after kilometer sand and small pebbles. In the distance she could see something green. Small patch of forest. Trail of footsteps leading to that direction.

"Oh, God…" Had she survived this long only to die to dehydration with Wolverine? Small bottle landed next to her on the sand.

"Drink up." She took it and drank.

He had already taken few steps over the sand when he had realized they wouldn't survive the desert without water. He had returned, and found a cabin. It had been quite disturbing to realize that he had obviously spent quite some time in there with his prisoner, but he had shrugged that off after finding a big pile of small plastic bottles, and a well from behind the cabin. He had filled the bottles with water and left. Now, hours later he was feeling the first pangs of thirst. From the looks of it she was parched. He couldn't let her die. Not before he got some answers.

She flinched surprised when Wolverine crouched next to her and took the bottle from her. She nearly fell on her back, but Wolverine grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back to a seated position.

"I'm taking you to the camp. They could probably use a good Breeder there," he said.

"I'm tired of carrying you around. Either I drag you or I free your hands and you walk nicely. Which is it going to be?"

"I walk," she squeaked fast. Wolverine opened the belt that bound her hands behind her back and looped it back to his pants. She stood up, stretching her legs, feeling his gaze follow every movement she made.

She wasn't injured and looked strong enough. It would take few days to catch the team he was trailing. Three Hunters and four Guards. They could probably guide him back to his own team. He rose and slid the bottle back to the backpack, sliding it to his shoulders. He had been carrying it on the front side for better balance when Breeder had been dangling on his shoulders.

"Why do you want to go back?" They had been walking for some time, when her question made him stop.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You're free now. Why do you want to go back there? Back to the Army?" She asked.

"That's none of your business. Keep walking," he grunted. She was thinking too much. Too many questions and thoughts running through that head of hers. Few years on duty would put her in her place that was sure. She would learn not to question.

Her seemingly unimportant and stupid question got stuck in his head. His mind kept replaying it over and over again, until he huffed and stopped, slumping to the hot sand on his ass.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked. She had walked forward, but after noticing he had stopped she returned to him and sat down.

"I'm curious."

"You were on AWOL?" He asked. Breeder nodded hesitantly. Not quite true, but she wasn't exactly lying either. He let it slip.

"Why? What made you want to run?" He asked. For a moment she just looked around, eyes watering. She didn't cry, instead wiped her eyes to the sleeve of her shirt and turned to look at him.

"Things didn't turn out the way I wanted. I had no choice but to leave."

"They treated you wrong there?" That was surprising. Usually they took good care of breeders.

"Not exactly. But it was… It's hard to explain. I felt like there was something wrong." Not exactly an answer he had been expecting. Not an answer he had been hoping.

"Why do you care?" She asked. Wolverine sounded strangely interested.

"I don't care. But your question made me think. It doesn't feel good. Stop talking. I don't want you to talk to me anymore," Wolverine snapped and stood up.

"Okay…"

"Shut up. I don't want you to talk." She forced down word that tried to escape from her lips and simply nodded instead.

Not a good idea to talk. Talking wasn't for him. It made him think. It made him start to question. More questions were forming in his mind every second. It was so fucking confusing, and made his head hurt. Bad. Bad. It would get better if he kept moving and she kept her mouth shut. Should get better. Had to. He was fucking falling apart. Something was trying to come through the walls he had built inside of him. Didn't the fucker understand it was for his own good? He wouldn't be even alive without him.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He wouldn't shut up. One word kept repeating, a name. Marie. Over and over again, until he was sure his brain would start leaking out from his ears. Man was struggling in earnest. Never before had he done this. Never before had he tried to break free. He had known his place. He had known it wasn't here and now.

"Logan?" She wasn't helping by calling him. Something would break soon if she didn't stay quiet, and it would be the end of this. End of everything. Man wasn't strong enough to endure the stress in combat and constant beatings.

"Logan?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" She was calling him, and he had only one choice left. He had done it before, in the beginning when man hadn't understood his place and part in this macabre show called life. He had done it once, and it had worked. Scared the man back to hiding.

She could only watch in horror when Wolverine took his hands, balled to fists and pressed them against his thighs. Muscles on his forearms shifted. Sound of metal scraping against metal when claws tore their way out, parting skin and muscle, slicing in to him. Yellow in Wolverine's eyes flickered and dimmed briefly.

"Get the hell away from me, kid…" Logan. For a second he was in charge.

"Take the backpack. Go. I'll make sure I can't follow…"

He had kept his word. She had taken the backpack and started to direction they had been heading, guessing Wolverine was on his way to the nearest settlement. It had taken her two full days to cross the scorching desert, fearing he would catch her, but she had made it.

It was a small village, much like her home had been. Few ramshackle huts surrounding quiet but tidy marketplace. One tavern, stable and few farmers selling their products. She had gotten a job as a waitress in the tavern. Place wasn't exactly buzzing with customers so owner of the tavern couldn't pay her salary, but in return of the hours she put in she got one room and three meals a day.

She was sweeping the floor when Carl walked in.

"I think we'll close early today," he said, locking the front door.

"And you better stay in your room the rest of the day. If you need anything, I'll get it for you."

"Why? What's going on?" Marie asked, leaning to the broom.

"Army. That's what's going on. Caravan's going through here. Don't want those filthy animals in here. Don't want them to get their paws on you either. So stay inside until they have passed."

Carl wasn't exactly fond of mutants, but Marie had approached him honestly, revealing the true reason why she kept herself fully clothed. Carl had huffed and muttered, watched her closely couple of days before deciding she was suitable person to work under his roof.

"My daughter was one. Army found her. Don't know what happened to her after they carted her off. Don't really want to think about it. But you could probably use this. We made it for Cathy. Only for her it was too late, but maybe this will help you," he had said and given Marie a ring. She had taken it, studying it carefully. It was a simple smooth band made out of steel.

"It was supposed to hide her mutation. Army caught her before it was finished. Take it. I don't want any troubles if they come searching for mutants."

She finished sweeping, brushing the collected dust to the bin in the corner. Carl was behind the counter, arranging bottles.

"Hungry?" He asked. Marie shook her head. Just moments ago she had been, but now all she wanted to do was to go to her room. Familiar tightening inside of her made her run the stairs and lock the door behind her. She wasn't going to cry.

She had last seen Logan a week ago, in the middle of the desert. Claws buried to his thighs. He hadn't followed her, and she didn't dare to think about what he had done. How he had stopped the Destroyer from following her. His fight with Camo had proven her he could be quite creative when it came to the business of hurting and disabling.

When she heard the ruckus outside, caused by the caravan and people watching it, she didn't get up to see. She lay on her bed, willing the tears away.


	2. Destroyer

Epilogue 

"And what do we have here?"

"Mutie. It's a mutie. Scans show implants. This fucker has already been on duty. We better take it back with us."

"Wait… What kind of implants? Should we collar it?"

"Yeah. We better. Nasty looking blades in its hands. Got to be a healer to be able to use those. Give it to me… Okay. All good to go."

"…Week before we get there. Better stock up some supplies…"

"Don't fuck with me! You're not serious!"

"Sure I am! Was ready to go down…"

"How's the cargo?"

"Just fine. Remember that deserter we found? Seems to be faring much better than the rest of those animals…"

"…Was sick like a dog for couple of days. Wonder if it had eaten something wrong…"

"Fucking sedate it! Sedate it! Fast! Oww… My fucking hand! Look at my fucking hand!"

"I told you not to go too close. Just 'cause it's collared doesn't mean it can't use those claws… I fucking hate this shit. Come on, give me the keys."

"What!"

"Give me the keys. We have to let it heal. Can't kill Army property. Remember Marty? What happened when he shot that mutie?"

"Yeah, yeah… Just be careful."

"Look, buddy. I'm going to open that collar for a second."

"Rrrr…"

"Christ! Cut it out! I'll have to open it; you'll bleed to death. There."

"Grr…"

"Stop that. I'm not going to touch you. See? Your hands are getting better already. Here. I just put this back on and… Jesus!"

"Rrrr…"

"Fucking beast nearly bit my fingers off!"

"That's it! I'm not going to get killed just because…"

"Put it down! Nobody's going to get killed! Tomorrow night we will be sitting in the mess and we are going to get wasted! That was just a misunderstanding, right, buddy?"

"Grrr…"

Arrival 

Truck had stopped. Bumpy ride was over. He could hear familiar sounds of the camp around him. In a weird and twisted way they were soothing his nerves. He was home. This was where he belonged. The man was silent, beaten and hiding again. His head felt clearer than it had been in ages. Footsteps were approaching, then the tarp covering the cages was pulled off and he squinted his eyes against the brightness of the sun that greeted him. Man was standing next to his cage, talking to another man. Enthusiasm, greed and relief colored his scent.

"This has to be worth of extra! This one's a deserter. Found it from the desert. First we thought it was dead, it has claws in its hands and it had rammed them right through its ribcage, but as soon as we got them out it started healing."

"Healer with claws? Good. Take it to the shop. Guys can check it up and install the tag and chip."

He was sure there was something he had forgotten, but it probably wasn't that important. More important was to concentrate to not to scream when scalpel sliced his cheek open. He grit his teeth when they scraped the bone underneath clean. Momentarily scent of hot metal and burning flesh drowned all the other scents. Sharp jab of needle to his bicep made him cringe a bit, then it was over.

"Tagged and chipped. Ready for rehabilitation."

"This went smoothly. Funny. According to Hunter's log this guy gave them quite some trouble…"

"Wonder what they did to him? You're no troublemaker, right, Wolverine?"

"You know it?"

"Just by reputation. One of the first Destroyers. Pretty clean record up until some incident over decade ago. Went missing after some fire. Nobody's seen this guy ever since."

"First destroyers? He's about hundred years old?"

"Might be even older. But who the fuck cares. It's not like these guys can get pension…"

"Right. Let's go and grab some coffee before they bring in the next one."

His cheek was itching, but he knew better not to scratch it. Skin was supposed to stay under the tag. They would have to cut it open again if he accidentally lifted half healed flap of it over the thin metal plate. Two Guards walked in and released his hands and legs from the restraints, ordering him to stand up. He sat up and let his feet slide to the floor, slowly. Guards reeked of nervousness and fear. Not a good combination. He cleared his throat.

"I won't cause any troubles."

"Yeah. Tell that to somebody who cares. And keep your fucking trap shut," younger of the Guards huffed, poking him to a right direction with his rifle.

"We're supposed to take it to the warehouse. A Mech is waiting in there."

"Good. My shift's over already. I'm so fucking tired of playing chaperone to these morons…"

He briefly wondered why Guards hadn't shackled him, but shrugged it off. He really wasn't in the mood to take the beating that would follow if he clawed them. Ride had been long and jarring. All he wanted to do was to sleep it off. He was sure there would be plenty of opportunities to vent out aggressions later. To teach some manners to these arrogant schmucks. They wouldn't last a full minute in the field and they had the guts to order him around and speak to him as he was somehow retarded. Yeah. It would be good. But not before he had gotten his bearings and learned the ropes again. For some reason there seemed to be a sizeable gap in his memory.

"Get in there."

"Hey, Gary! Got you another one."

"Jesus! Like I didn't have enough already. What? Am I suddenly the only Mech in this whole fucking Army!"

"Not our problem. Arrived today, but nothing's new to this guy. It's a deserter. Keep an eye on it."

"What does it do?"

"Destroyer. Little outdated model if you ask from me. Retractable adamantium claws in its hands. Not much use in the field anymore. I guess that's why they gave it to you."

Outdated? He would fucking show that prick outdated next time he saw him. But not now. Mechanic. Old. Chubby. White hair. Glasses over his eyes. Curious bastard, getting so close to his face.

"Wolverine? Christ! They weren't kidding. You're ancient. Older than me. I know, I know… Not exactly a compliment, but it's the truth. What's your status?" Mechanic asked. He tilted his head.

"Go on. I'm sure you are able to speak," Gary urged.

"Healer. I heal. And I have enhanced senses."

"Are you a nut job?" Gary asked. Again he tilted his head, furrowing his brow. What the fuck was the Mech talking about?

"I have noticed you guys perform much better if I keep the collar off all the time. But before I take it off I want to know if you're planning to go berserk and cut up half of the team."

"You can take it off. I'm too fucking tired to do anything else than sleep."

"What about after you have slept? Will you be different?" Gary asked. Well, he felt like nice enough guy.

"I don't have a clue."

"Okay. I leave it on for now. See how it goes."

Gary led him to his quarters.

"As you can see, I already have my hands full… And that's where you step in to the picture," he said pointing at a group of hunters that were lounging in the corner, chained together but free from the collar.

"We lost our Destroyer about a week ago. Some trigger-happy idiot… Well, you're going to take his place. You'll patrol with these guys at the outer perimeter of the camp. Two Guards will escort you, but I wouldn't count too much on them if I were you. It's up to you to see that these morons behave. Think you're up to it?" Gary asked. And now he was sure there was something very, very wrong. He was a fucking Destroyer. Not a babysitter. And certainly not something to be trusted. But what the heck. He could do it. He could play for a while and see how things were handled in here. He nodded.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" Gary asked.

"Am I allowed to speak?"

"How long exactly have you been on the run?" Gary asked, wrinkling his forehead. He just shrugged. He hadn't even been aware that he had been AWOL.

"Things have changed since you left, quite a bit. Of course there are still rules, written and whole shitload of things you just have to know. Just remember one thing. Don't question. Do as you're told to, and everything will go just fine."

Settling in 

"You'll sleep in here. Bathroom is over there," Gary had said and left him to a small room. There was a bed in the corner with real linens and a quilt thrown over it. Bathroom was small, with a sink and a toilet seat. He had been expecting Gary to shackle him together with the Hunters. A bed? Things had really changed.

He walked in to bathroom and decided to clean off the accumulated dust before going to bed. No use to soil linens. Water from the tap was cold, but it was clean, and there hung a small towel on the wall next to the sink. He took it and soaked it in the water. Started wiping himself clean. Something, some stray shred of memory tickled in the back of his skull. Somewhere somebody had done this to him. Towel brushing over his skin. It had felt good, sand had gotten everywhere and cool water had felt heavenly on his sun burnt skin. He knew for a fact that it was something that belonged to him, not to the man, since remembering it didn't hurt.

He had to dunk his head to the sink to be able to wash his hair. It was a bit awkward, his instincts were screaming him to get up and watch his back, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to stay down long enough. Another towel, bigger and dry hang on the wall opposite the sink. He took it and dried off before returning to the other room. Eyed the bed warily. He had been planning to sleep on it, but now he started to have doubts. What the hell Gary was up to? Treating him like a person. Giving him all kinds of space and privileges. Well. He would learn soon. Man had been dabbling with Hunters too long. He would learn to deal with Destroyer soon enough.

Brown eyes stared at him from under a mass of shiny and long brown locks. There was no fear in those eyes. There was no fear in the way delicate hands were caressing his body, traveling over taut muscles. No fear. Instead of it there was a fire, matching with the one burning inside of him.

"Logan…"

He woke up abruptly, whisper of the dream still echoing in his head. Logan. She had called him Logan. Fortunately the man was as good as gone now. Memories still lingered, but they would fade in time. Door opening made him sit up, every nerve bristling and alert.

"You're awake. Good. Here, I brought you some clothes. Put them on. Breakfast is ready. Your shift starts within half an hour," Gary said, tossing him a bundle of black cloth and placing boots and small bag near the door before retreating and leaving him again to his own devices.

Uniform was made out of black denim, not much more than an overall with pockets sewn to chest and thighs. Boots were sturdy, black leather with surprisingly soft rubber soles. From the bag he found a belt, gloves and a vest made out of Kevlar.

"You better put it on. I'm not going to remove that collar of yours before I know weather I can trust you or not…" Gary said when he walked in the kitchen, dangling the vest in his hands like it was the worst insult he had faced in his life. He slipped the vest on, grimacing when he realized how much it would restrain his movements. He felt like a fucking tortoise.

There were four of them. Four dog-like creatures. Gary had given their leash to him and patted him on the back for good luck before he had walked off with two Guards. Guards kept their distance, Hunters were growling and yanking their chains and he felt like growling back to them. Instead he yanked the leash hard enough to send Hunters stumbling on their backs with startled yelps. As soon as they got back on their feet, they resumed pulling, squabbling and growling again. He had to agree with Gary. Morons.

Scorching hot sun was blazing from clear sky, slight breeze made sand pool to miniature dunes. On the left side of him he could see the camp, buzzing and swirling with life. On the right side open desert, kilometer after kilometer sand.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked. Attack against the camp didn't seem likely from any direction.

"We'll catch anybody who tries to escape. Most of you dimwits understand to stay put, but there's always few who are willing to try their luck in the desert," Guard answered. Okay. He could do that.

Sand got everywhere. Straps of the vest were chafing, he could feel it grinding inside of his boots and rattling between his teeth. Weather was hot enough to put even Hunters down. They were slouching lazily around him. Guards looked uncomfortable in their red uniforms. They were sweating and panting.

"Over there. Go and get it. We'll wait in here," Guards said, sitting to the meager shadow perimeter fence offered and pointed towards a small figure far on the desert. Footprints lead from the fence to that direction.

"Oh, and in case you get some ideas… That collar of yours is filled with explosives. If it looks like you're not planning to return, we will stop you," Guard warned him, patting a small remote control hanging from his belt.

Hunters were alert now, tugging their chains and howling. He held the leash tight and walked. No use to run. Figure wasn't moving anymore. He could see small drops of blood on the sand mingling with footprints. Wounded. When he got closer he could see green uniform of a Breeder, tainted with blood from the waist down. Hunters were going berserk; howling and snapping their jaws, drool dribbling in long, sticky strands from their jaws.

"No… Not anymore…" Breeder was sobbing when she heard them approaching. He took in her appearance. Beaten. Raped. Hunters were poking her with their snouts, growling and whining. Not biting. They wouldn't bite unless he told them to.

"Lets get you back home…" He grabbed the back of her uniform and started dragging her back to the camp, over the sand. Things had really changed when somebody had the guts to lay a hand on a breeder. Back in his remembered time actions like that were punishable. Depending on how badly the Breeder was treated punishment varied from beating to death.

"I don't want to go back…"

"Shut up. Nobody asked your opinion."

In to battle 

Days blended together. Same patrol route. Same guards. Same duties day after day. Hunters had long ago learned not to aggravate him. He had taken the leader of their small pack and beaten it to a pulp in front of the rest of them. Gary had frowned and scolded him, but he had understood. New hunter had been assigned to replace the one he had killed.

Apart from his slight slip up with the Hunter he had kept quiet. Obeyed orders and kept away from trouble. He had been rewarded for the restraint he had shown when Gary had taken off the collar one morning, reminding him that he could as easily put it back if it was needed. He had discarded the Kevlar vest with a relieved groan, stretching his shoulders and cracking his neck. Hunters had perked their ears and snouts, taking in the slight change in his scent and posture. He hadn't needed the leash to control them ever since.

All in all, he had settled in pretty good, when the call came.

"You'll leave in the morning. Shit. As soon as I get one trained…" Gary had cursed, stripping off tag that identified him as a perimeter guard from the breast pocket of his uniform.

"They are getting desperate. Throw someone like you on the field. Fucking slaughter, that's what's waiting for you. Just remember to keep your head down," he had advised. Wolverine had smirked. Slaughter was his game. The game he played the best.

He wasn't smirking anymore. Things had changed on the field as well. Long-range fire had replaced hand-to-hand combat almost completely. Instead of vulnerable mutants enemy drove tireless machines on the field. For the first time tide had changed, in favor for the enemy.

He lay in the corner of the bunker, staring at the flickering fluorescent lights above him. Dog-tired and cold. Soaked to the bone. Summer had come; bringing chilling rain that turned the terrain from rocky sand to a slippery mud. Shredded makeshift uniform he wore now was caked with dried blood and other grit and grime. He had slept last time nearly a week ago, and it was hard to let go of the tension and close his eyes. To trust his hide to the hands of the others. Even smallest of the sounds was enough to jolt him wide-awake, every nerve humming and aching muscles rippling, ready to bolt. Hunger gnawed in his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to calm down enough to actually eat something.

"Stay the fuck down and sleep. You're no good to us if you don't rest every once in a while." Guard rumbled from the doorway when he shifted, turning on his side and from there to his hands and knees.

"Can't sleep. Too wired to do that."

"Tough luck. You got six hours. Try to get some shut-eye."

After tossing and turning for what felt like eternity he stood up, eyeing the concrete wall of the bunker. It could work. Hoped it would work and raced against it, face first. Sickening metallic thud rang in his head before blessed darkness claimed him.

He came back to his senses. Somebody was shouting and shaking him.

"Get the fuck up!" Guard. Shouting and jostling him up. Destroyers were clearing from the bunker. Steady stream of mutants, different sizes and shapes running out from the doorway.

"We're under attack. Perimeter's breached. Go!" Hard slap to his back sent him stumbling after the others. Blood was still slowly dribbling from the wound on his forehead. He hadn't been out long, couple minutes at most.

Base was a mess. Ground slippery from mud and blood. He staggered carefully over fallen Destroyer and slipped to a steaming pile of innards, landing on his back. In a flash there was an enemy unit towering over him. Dressed in white, driving a sharp metal pole through his gut. He kicked blindly and heard the satisfactory crunch when its knees gave up and it fell screaming. He yanked the rod out. Claws finished writhing and screaming unit lying next to him and he stood up, eyes scanning his surroundings, searching the next prey. He spotted it, growled and turned towards it. World around him blew apart and he was flying through the air. Ground caught him with a bone-jarring thud and he dove to darkness once more.

He woke up from a pile of corpses. Again. One could think the series of number in his tag that identified him as a healer would prevent this from happening. When he could feel first trickle of acid on his skin he let out a hoarse scream.

"Fuck, that one's alive!"

"Well, get it up from there! We have to get this finished!" He opened his eyes. At least this time he had ended up on top of the pile. Somebody was approaching, sliding down the slippery slope of the mass grave carefully. A Guard.

"Wolverine? The fuck you are doing in here?" He recognized the Guard. Guy was guarding the bunker he was assigned to.

"Don't know…"

"Shit. You're a mess. Come on. I call a Mech to check you up…"

"I'll arrange a transfer. I'm tired of this shit. Okay, Wolverine heals, but it isn't much of use to us when ninety-nine percent of the time it's dead to the world. Don't know what they were thinking, sending it here… Healing alone isn't any good, but mixed with something ranged…"

"You lucky bastard. You'll get sent to a breeding center!" Guard said, smiling widely and slapping his thigh when Mechanic left the bunker, muttering about all kinds of idiots in the dispatch center.

Breeder 

A Breeder. A fucking Breeder. They had made him take off his clothes and given him thorough physical exam. They had gotten rid of lice and vermin that had once more overrun his body. They had vaccinated him, not really necessary procedure considering his mutation. They had pumped him full of hormones, and given him a green uniform and pushed him in to a large hall filled with other mutants wearing similar attire. And now they expected him to participate to the huge orgy that was going on everywhere he laid his eyes.

He wandered around, eyeing the other breeders, trying to block out scents and sounds. Not many of them carried a tag. He spotted only few of those, both males. Not many of them wore clothes. Most of the others had discarded their uniforms and were simply copulating like crazed animals with everything at the striking distance. Sight and sound of it made him sick, but at the same time he could feel the first stirrings of an arousal. Hand latched to his ankle and he stopped, staring with morbid fascination the owner of that hand. Male Breeder, getting fucked by another male while fucking a female.

By the end of the day when Guards walked in to separate groups that had formed so that they could herd everybody to their rightful places he was sitting in a corner, hands curled around his knees and face hidden in his palms. He had tried. For countless of times he had tried to straddle a willing female, but every time ghost of a memory, image of long brown hair streaked with white and brown eyes had stopped him.

"We'll give it a day or two. If it doesn't work, we'll just have to milk it…" He heard a Mech mutter to another. They stood in front of his cell, both staring at him.

"We could give it another shot of 'lust juice'…" Mech proposed. Other one shook his head.

"We already gave more than the usual. I don't want it to flip out. I want new genes, not a massacre. This one's aggressive enough already. You saw how hard it tried earlier. What ever it is that it's stopping it, it'll get over it…"

Scent of arousal wafting thick in the air made him pace back and forth. Every once in awhile he had to stop and rub himself to relieve the tension that had settled to the pit of his stomach. Scent made him react, but it was all wrong. It wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't what he needed. He knew tomorrow would be the same as today had been. He wouldn't be able to go on and fuck any of those Breeders they expected him to impregnate. They didn't belong to him. As much as he wanted the relief that sticking his cock to a warm slippery channel would have produced it wouldn't have lasted long, because it was a wrong place to stick it. He didn't have the slightest idea of what the right place would have been, but he was sure as hell that it wasn't anywhere near this compound.

He lay on the floor whimpering. His lower abdomen hurt. His balls hurt. His cock hurt. His head hurt. He was burning up, grinding his erection against the cool concrete, tried to make it go away. He had discarded his uniform hours ago; it was too hot and chafed his skin. He was sweating like a fucking pig, and every drop of the salty liquid dripping from his skin was saturated with the stench of the artificial hormones they had pumped in him.

"Marie…" Whisper flowed from his lips. He clamped trembling palm over his treacherous mouth, rolling on his back. Images of a cascade of brown, silky hair flooded his mind. Scent of vanilla and peppermint replaced the stench of musk momentarily and his hand closed around his shaft. Few quick thrusts and he came, spilling his seed over his stomach and chest. For a moment he lay there, staring at the ceiling, then curled on his side and closed his eyes, drifting to a dreamless slumber.

Loud clatter of the metal bars woke him up. He rose from the floor, noticing with dread three Guards standing at the doorway. A Mech pushed his way in from behind them.

"Do you know why you are here?" Mech asked. He nodded.

"Do you have any explanation to your behavior?" In other words, why the hell he wasn't fucking around as it was expected. He shrugged his shoulders. Mech sighed and produced several small syringes from the pocket of his lab coat. He backed away trembling. During few hours of sleep he had managed to get his healing factor had finally identified the problem and cleaned his system from that shit. He wasn't going to go through that hell again.

"We can do this nicely, or…" Mech pointed at the Guards standing behind him. He backed against the wall and crouched slightly. Flick of his wrists brought the claws out. Mech let out a frustrated sigh. Nodded to the Guards who stepped forth. Instead of prodding him with tasers they pulled out a net and captured him with it, avoiding his attempts to claw them through it quite skillfully. He couldn't cut the strings. It was made out of adamantium. Guards pinned him to the floor with the net and he could only lay there, spewing curses and squirming when Mech emptied syringe after syringe to his bicep. After it was over they retreated hastily from the cell and closed the door.

"We keep it locked up for now. Couple days and it should be horny enough to perform…" He could hear the Mech explain when the group disappeared from the doorway.

Few hours later they came back and shackled his hands behind his back.

Finding Eve 

"And you thought it would be a good idea to let it loose after that treatment? Where was your fucking brain?" Scent of blood and other bodily fluids hung heavy in the air, making him shift and growl.

"I thought it would participate…"

"It did participate. Did you even read the file? It's a Destroyer. Not some ordinary mutie from bumfuck. A Destroyer. More aggressive than our average unit. You're lucky none of those females was pregnant already." He growled again. Female on his arms wasn't squirming anymore.

"It fucked that one. The one it's holding. And it's still alive."

"That's not the point! It fucking slaughtered twenty females and ten males before that!" Female on his arms let out a tiny whimper when he jostled her to a better position before sheathing his cock in to her once more.

"Well, at least it's mating now. Take it back to its cell. Put the female in with it. Who knows, maybe they won't kill each other…"

"And I thought we would have to knock that one up artificially. Guess Wolverine's mutation is stronger than her skin."

After grueling week cooped up in his cell without any means to relieve the tension in his body he had finally found it. The right place. Right female. His female. There had been so many units, trying to grope him and her, but he had taken care of them. He could tell the female was horrified and not a least bit willing, but he was past caring. She belonged to him. After he had taken her couple of times she had finally relaxed and stopped struggling. Now he sat in the corner of his cell, hands wrapped around her, nose buried to the side of her throat, breathing in the scent of vanilla and peppermint.

As soon as she came back to her senses she renewed her struggles, kicking, scratching and biting him. He let her vent out her aggressions for a while. She would tire soon. He could already feel his cock stiffen, but ignored it. Wasn't time for that now. As soon as she slumped against him with a frustrated shriek he collected her to his arms and just held her against his chest. Against his heart.

"Be still. You're going to carry my cubs. Don't want to hurt you," he murmured. Female started to cry.

"Logan… I miss you so much…" At the sound of the name he froze. She was calling the man.

"Shut up. He's gone." She cried even harder, but didn't try to object. He slipped his hand between her thighs. She was still slippery and wet from his come. He turned her around and fucked her once more before curling around her body to sleep.

_Don't fight me_

Sudden movement and growl woke her up. Wolverine's weight disappeared from her back and she was able to crawl to a corner. A man wearing a white lab coat entered the cell, followed by three Guards.

"Calm down, Wolverine. I'll just check her up…" Man was inching towards her, his back against the wall. Wolverine looked torn, stepping hesitantly between them, shielding her, but trying to stay out of the man's way.

"I'll just need a drop of her blood. We're going to see if you're going to become a proud papa…" Man said, kneeling next to Marie, keeping his eyes trained on now snarling Wolverine. She tried to curl as small as possible. She felt a needle prick her thigh, then man was retreating, eyes fixed to a small pen-like device on his hand.

"Not yet. Okay, Wolverine. You know the drill…" Man sighed, pulling five syringes from the pocket of his lab coat. Claws erupted from Wolverine's hands, but his struggle was futile. Guards got him pinned.

"Don't! Let me go! Let me go! I'll do what you want! Let me go!" She peeked through her fingers. It wasn't Wolverine anymore. Logan's brown eyes locked with hers when man wearing the lab coat jabbed needle after needle to his arm.

"I'm so fucking sorry, kid…" Yellow tint started to creep in his eyes, blending with brown. Guards and the man in a lab coat left, locking the cell door.

"Don't fight me. Just… Fuck… I'm sorry. I'm sorry…" Even when he was apologizing he started to crawl towards her on his hands and knees, huge erection jutting between his thighs.

"Logan?" She pushed against the wall, standing up slowly.

"Don't fight me. Please. I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, kid…"

"Logan, you don't have to do this…"

"I'm sorry…" His hands latched to her knees and he yanked sharply, bringing her on the floor on her back.

"Logan, please!" She closed her eyes and prepared for the inevitable.

"I'll try to be careful…"

She didn't know which one was more awful; Logan's constant pleas of forgiveness or the fact that her body started to respond to his clumsy caresses. When his finger slid in to her, her core gripped it, and when he added second finger her hips started undulating seemingly on their own volition.

"That's it… Just pretend it's me… It'll be easier…" Logan muttered pulling her under his heavy frame and then he was gone. Yellow eyes of a beast stared at her, filled with lust and need to possess. Fingers retreated, making her whimper. Wolverine turned her roughly on her knees and entered to her with one, swift thrust from behind.

Female was more accommodating this time. He could even smell a faint trace of arousal lingering in her own unique scent. Good. She finally accepted him. Her pussy was still tight and barely moist, but she was getting more slippery every moment. He let out appreciative rumble and licked the back of her neck. She arched her back and bucked against him, letting out a small moan. Then she did something very confusing, but he wasn't going to protest. She took his hand and guided it to her front side, between her thighs, to the place where they were joined. She showed him how to rub from there, and when she took her hand away, he continued stroking. It seemed to please her. Couldn't hurt to keep her happy, even if it wasn't completely necessary.

Familiar tightening told him he was going to come soon. Something was happening for the female and it drew his attention momentarily away from his own approaching release. She was grinding against him in earnest now, nearly screaming, and her tight and slick sheath was constricting around him. It felt rather nice. Her hand grasped his and drew his fingers away from between her legs. She clutched his palm, nails digging in to his skin and drawing blood. It hurt a bit, but that hurt combined with the scent of blood and sudden explosion of her arousal made him thrust deep inside of her and grasp her hips to keep her steady, because he was coming. Coming so hard he was sure he had to be hurting her, but she didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she was letting out small mewling sounds and kept gyrating her hips, grinding her buttocks against him.

He maneuvered them carefully on the floor on their sides, keeping his cock still inside of her. It was important to make sure that his seed got to where it was supposed to go. She was still shivering and panting. Her skin was sweaty and flushed, and he could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. He nuzzled her neck with his lips, wanting to bite. Just a small nibble, teeth just grazing slightly, to tell her she was his. To assure her she belonged to him, because for some reason he could smell tears and regret on her now.

"Logan's not here, but I'll take care of you. You're mine. Nobody can mess with you," Wolverine spoke suddenly, words vibrating through his chest, against her back. He pulled away from her carefully. She could feel he was erect again. She expected him to lift her on her knees again, but instead he turned her gently around, face to face with him.

"What do I call you? I remember a name… Logan has a name for you…"

"Rogue," she whispered trembling. She didn't want to hear her real name from those lips. She didn't want to see those eyes on Logan's face. She closed her eyes. Soft growl made her open them again.

"This isn't what you want, but you better get used to this."

_A Breeder no more_

Days blended together. Every morning Mechanic came escorted by Guards. Took a blood sample from Marie, and gave shots to Wolverine. Wolverine. She hadn't seen Logan after Wolverine had taken over. Mornings she spent on her knees, Wolverine filling her with his seed, afternoons she avoided him, staying at the opposite side of their tiny cell. When night came, she lay to sleep alone. When she woke up, Wolverine was usually sleeping beside her, covering her body partially with his. Then Mech came with the Guards and cycle started again. Wolverine had stopped fighting altogether and stood still while Mechanic pumped hormones in to him. Then, one morning, everything changed.

"Positive. Take it." Those three words changed everything. She was whisked away sooner than Wolverine had time to react. Guards were dragging her along the corridor, and she could hear his furious growls echoing from behind.

Dimly lit breeding cell she had been living changed to more comfortable cell in an other part of the compound. A bed in one corner. Toilet seat in the other. Soft rugs covered the cold floor. She had seen other cells furnished in same fashion when Guards had brought her to her new 'home'.

"You'll be staying here until you deliver. After, if you're still alive, we'll see if Wolverine is again interested in you," Mechanic explained to her before injecting greenish liquid to her thigh and leaving.

She didn't know what to think anymore. She was pregnant, that much she had understood. And they were going to sit and wait until she gave birth, and then they were going to take the baby, and throw her back to Wolverine. To see if they could have another baby. Suddenly she felt sick. Sick and scared.

They had taken her away. She belonged to him, and they had taken her away. They had no right to do such thing. He had fought for her. Killed for her. And now they thought they could take her and he would just sit back and let it happen? They were in for a nasty surprise. He had started to behave only because his brawls with the Guards seemed to agitate her. Now that she wasn't here, he could let loose and show them what he thought about people who messed with something that belonged to him.

He spent cold and lonely night cooped up to a corner she used to sleep when she was with him. Her scent had rubbed on the concrete floor. It was faint, but it was better than nothing. He pressed his face against the spot she had used to lay and breathed in deeply, inhaling vanilla, peppermint and musk.

He had lain on the corner that day and a night. New morning came. Five Guards entered to his cell, shackled him after a short struggle and dragged him with them to another part of the compound. It was a big room, filled with computers, glass cabinets and machines hovering above metal gurneys. Each and every one of those gurneys was equipped with restraints. They lifted him on a gurney and strapped him down. Mechanic attached an IV to his jugular, paying seemingly no attention to curses and threats he was shouting. He could already feel artificial hormones creeping inside of him, starting a fire that could be put out only one way. When machine above him started whirring and moved lower on his body, extending a hose towards his crotch he started to scream.

After few hours Logan wasn't screaming anymore. When machine retreated and Guards removed restraints from his wrists and ankles he could only curl on his side, whimpering and trembling when painful cramps rode through his body. Wolverine was gone, as if it had been sucked out of him along his semen.

"Put it to a cell number 15," Mechanic said. Guards yanked him up from his arms.

"We'll continue tomorrow. Looks like we have to increase the hormone dosage…"

Cell number 15 was moderately better than breeding cell he had been in earlier. He had a bed now. Guards had thrown him on it and left. Last thing he remembered before waking to a horrible, twisting and wrenching feeling was Marie. He had been with her. He had raped her. And he had a feeling it hadn't been the only time. Her scent was still on him. He had spent enough time with her to get it imprinted on him.

His stomach was hurting. Cock and balls were throbbing, but at the same time they felt strangely numb. Tiny wound on his neck that IV needle had made was still bleeding sluggishly. He tried to sit up but he had no strength left to do that. Bitter taste of metal in his mouth, itching and burning sensation inside of him. His mutation was as good as gone, sucked out of him to the bowels of that machine. It would come back soon enough, but he had heard the Mechanic. They were going to drain him again tomorrow.

"No. Not anymore…" He turned on his side and lifted a trembling hand, pressing his knuckles against the wall. Claws extended and got stuck to the concrete. Blood was flowing eagerly from the wounds they had made. Claws would keep the wounds open, and now that they were stuck, they wouldn't slide back in when he lost his consciousness. At his current condition it wouldn't take long to bleed to death, and this time his mutation wouldn't interfere.

"I'm sorry, kid…"

Something had stirred inside of her when she first heard the screams echoing from further down the corridor. She had felt a cold spark in her head. A blue spark, like icy electricity. When Guards had dragged a mutilated body of an other breeder past her cell, that spark had started to grow. Now she felt like she was drowning to blue, electric ice. It distorted her field of vision, making everything dim and blue around her. Dark blue dust was seeping out from the pores of her skin.

Explosions wracked the compound around him, causing the walls crack and crumble. Claws slid free from their concrete sheath, and retreated back inside of his hands. He didn't have enough strength left to push them back out. He didn't have any strength left. He could only lay on the bed and watch when first thin layer of dust, then thicker layer of rubble and debris covered him from head to toe, burying him alive.

Breeding center lay in ruins. Lonely figure, clad only to her hands and mysterious looking blue dust that shimmered still around her rose from destruction. Nobody was alive to stop her when she limped away.


	3. Sins Of The Father

Sins of the father… 

"But mom…"

"You're not going. And that's final, young man. I don't want to hear another word about it!"

"But you know it's different now! It's not like it used to be when you were…"

"I said I don't want to hear about it! Not now, not ever! This family has already given more than enough for that stupid war! You're not going!"

"Fine. I'll be outside. I think garden needs some water…"

Marie watched her son's retreating back through the window of their small cabin. So much like his father had been. Same features, same build, same stubborn streak in him. Sam was now twenty. Man in the house. During those twenty years that had passed many things had changed in her life, and surrounding world. Most profound change was perhaps attitude towards mutants. It had taken a step towards tolerance when there had been an attack from outer space. People had reasoned that a threat from outside was far more formidable than the one that mutants posed. Even the eternal war had changed. Instead of being just an expensive meat grinder, originally plotted and developed to wipe out the whole mutant race, both sides turned against aliens, first time in over hundred years united. Men fought side by side with mutants.

"Sam… I'm sorry. It's just… I can't let you go. I can't let them take you from me."

"Fine."

"You have to understand. After everything I went through…"

"I said fine."

"Sam?"

"What do you want me to say? Yes, mom, you're absolutely right? I can't do that! Because you're wrong! It's my duty to defend Earth, not slave my ass off so that we could have something to eat next winter! If you could just let me go, I could make some money and send it to you. You could move in to settlement and forget this crappy little hut and crappy little garden!"

Sudden slap on the cheek silenced Sam. He just stood there, towering head higher than his mom and rubbing the red blotch on his skin.

"This crappy little hut is our home. This crappy little garden is the only thing that has kept us alive all these years. This piece of land is mine. If you want to throw this all away like a piece of trash, be my guest. Go and pack your things. Go get yourself killed. I'm tired of this shit…" Marie hissed turning her back to Sam and walking slowly back to the cabin. Sam had never seen his mother like this before. Shoulders slumped, head hung low and back bent. She wasn't even forty years yet, and now she looked like she was closing sixty. He really felt bad for her. But he had never lied to her, and he wasn't going to start it now. For as long as he remembered, they had been dead on honest to each other. Arrangement that had lead to many heated fights, but at the end of the day it was worth it. They had nothing to hide from each other, and it had lead to much closer relationship between them than most of his friends could say about themselves and their parents. Sam could count on her mother to be there for him no matter what. And he had made a solemn vow years ago that he would be there for her.

Sam was a good boy. Many ways probably much better person than Marie herself, she often thought. Even now. Even when he seemed to be scornful, he wasn't thinking about himself first. He was thinking about what he could give to this world. And what he could do to improve the quality of their life. She was the first to admit there was room for improvement. Garden gave them vegetables and fruits, and Sam hunted for meat and pelts. She had learned how to process those pelts, and once a year she left their little haven to go to the nearest settlement to sell clothes she made out of them. Money she used to buy things they couldn't hunt or grow themselves. It was hard life. But it was a good life. Kept them away from troubles when Guards and Hunters had still been capturing mutants. And even now kept them fed and clothed for most of the time.

She knew she was being unreasonable. Sam was a grown man. She should let him run his own life. She should cut the strings that tied them together and let him go, to find his own corner in this life. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She had been mulling that over for several years now. Every year she decided she would do it the next year. Every year it got harder and harder to let Sam go. He was the only thing left from the man she had once loved.

Trip to settlement 

"Tomorrow's a market day. You could come with me. I could use some help," she said, stirring the soup that was bubbling on the stove.

"I'll come. I had been planning to go anyway. Maybe spend few nights at the settlement," Sam said with casual tone. Marie fought back the stern no that was forming on her lips.

"Few nights? What are you going to do?" She asked instead. Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I was there last year. Remember the money I made in the cage? I was thinking I could fight this year, too." Marie kept her back turned to him and busied herself by taking plates and cups from the shelf above the sink.

"I don't know… It was a lot of money, but was it worth it? You were sick weeks afterwards." Sam had inherited Logan's keen senses and immunity to her skin, but not his healing ability. He was a big muscular man, but he could get hurt just like anybody else.

"I was sick weeks, but we lived for months with my winnings," Sam reminded her.

"Fine. You can go. On one condition," Marie consented reluctantly, turning to face Sam. He was looking at her with both eyebrows raised as high as they could go.

"No broken bones. If it gets too rough, you'll get out, no matter how much money is in the pot."

After they had eaten Sam retreated to his room, undoubtedly to check his gear. Marie washed the dishes and ventured to front porch, just to sit and enjoy the silence. She could see the desert through the woods, and far away blinking lights of the settlement. They would have to rise early tomorrow. She had already packed the clothes she had made to the truck, but it would be several hours before they reached the settlement. Several hours over the scorching sand. She still wondered how she had managed to cross it by foot all those years ago. It had more to do with stubbornness than survival skills, for that she was sure.

When she had left the breeding center, she had wandered around aimlessly. After a week on the road, with nothing to eat, with no clothes or money, a mutant friendly salesman had taken pity of her. He had given her some clothes, food, and directions to the settlement. She had worked as a waitress for a while, but she had soon noticed it wasn't a healthy place for a mutant. On the map had shown a small patch of forest, a possible oasis at the desert. She had made her way there. She had found an abandoned truck from there. Lady luck had finally decided to grant her some mercy. Truck had been filled with rations and clothes. And close by had been an underground current, streaming with crystal clear water. She had made a nest of some sorts to the back of it, and lived there, first alone, then, after birth with Sam. When she had felt that she was in reasonable good shape, she had started to build them a house. It had taken her a year, to build the cabin they even now lived in. To err is human had become her mantra during that year. First it had been just one room, but when Sam started to grow up they had built two more rooms to it.

All in all, life hadn't been easy, but they had managed to get through it with hard work and determination. And now leave all this? For what? A single room in the settlement, go back to the life she thought she had left behind ages ago? Go back to all those people who had wanted to send her away and lock her up. To use her. Experiment on her. Shudder run through her whole body. Never.

"But I have to let him go. It has been too long already. Tomorrow. I'll tell him tomorrow…" She whispered silently to no one in particularly. She could only hope that Sam would choose wisely how to use the freedom she had decided to grant him.

"You got everything?" She asked when Sam climbed to the passenger's seat.

"Yeah. I put my bag back." He spoke with a silent voice, refusing to look at her.

"What are you up to?" Marie asked with a sharp voice.

"Nothing. Can we just go already? You don't want to be late…" For that Sam was absolutely right. It was five o'clock, but it would be closer to ten before they reached the settlement. All the best places at the marketplace would be taken already, but at least there would be free places left. She started the truck.

"You ready?" She asked. Sam patted the rifle on his lap and gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"Just drive."

Few times bandits had tried to rob them. Every time they had managed to outrun them, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. She didn't have the knowledge or means to armor the truck, let alone mount an automatic cannons to it, but Sam was quite skilled with the rifle.

"This has been a long winter," Sam noted when they passed several dried animal carcasses during the first hour of their drive.

"I'm just glad it's over. No need to break your back over the garden anymore, it'll get all the water it needs from the sky," Marie muttered, steering the truck around small dune that had formed over the caravan route.

"Yeah… About that… What if you made an irrigation channel from the well to the garden? Would be much easier for you."

"For me? Since you turned ten, I haven't carried a single bucket to there. Don't you mean it would be easier for you?" Marie asked.

"Well… Yeah. I guess that's what I meant…" Sam said, gaze fixed to horizon.

"Okay. There's something you're not telling me… Let me have a guess?" Marie asked. Sam swallowed, clutching the rifle on his lap harder.

"Mom…"

"It's just not few nights at the settlement. You're not planning to come back at all. Am I right?" Sam kept silent, peering through the side window rather than facing her.

"Am I right, Sam?" Marie asked again.

"I was going to come back. To bring you some money. And to make sure you were all right. But yeah. I'm leaving."

"Sam, look at me."

"Mom, it's… I have to go! I'm going nuts! I need to live my own life!"

"You're absolutely right. I wasn't going to tell you this before I was returning to home. I was going to give you half of the profit I make today, and let you go." For that Sam had nothing to say.

"Only one hour to go, and nobody has tried to stop us yet," Marie wondered.

"Might have something to do with that…" Sam said, pointing to the rearview mirror. Thick cloud of dust was following them. Every once in a while small breeze picked up, parting the cloud, and she could see the vehicles. Army convoy. She gripped the steering wheel harder, trying to tamp down the trembling she could feel was starting. She couldn't fool Sam.

"Calm down, mom. They're not after us. Those days are over. They're probably on their way to the front," he said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

Calm down. It was easier said than done. For the most part of her life she had spent running and hiding. It was an instinct built in to her. It made her push the gas pedal little harder. It made a thin sheen of perspiration rise to her forehead. She wiped it off before it started to trickle to her eyes. Her fingers came off light blue.

"Mom? You really need to calm down, now…" She pulled to the side of the road and leaned her back to the seat. Closed her eyes.

"Maybe you should drive."

"Okay. We can wait here and let them pass. Would you feel better if we drove behind them?" Sam asked. She nodded feebly. It was only moderately better option, but they could really use the extra protection the convoy offered.

She kept her eyes closed when she heard the trucks driving past them. She could feel the vibrations that heavy machinery created. She could smell the stench of gasoline. She could hear the rattle of chains. Angry, barked orders. Hits. Kicks. Hunger. Pain…

"They're gone. Move over." Sam's voice brought her back from her memories. She scooted over to the passenger's side, letting Sam take the wheel.

_Old acquaintance_

"Okay. All set. Do you need me for anything?" Sam asked brushing his hands clean to the thighs of his jeans. Backboard of the truck's lorry was now open. Jackets, trousers, shirts and skirts, made from leather and pelts hung on the lorry, neatly arranged to display.

"No. Just go and have fun," Marie said. First customers were already circling the truck, and she had noticed people tended to be afraid of Sam, probably because sheer size of him, and the predatory air he exuded. Sam shouldered his backpack and left, undoubtedly to look for the manager of the cage match. Now there was something more he had inherited from his father. Both were short tempered and prone to violence. And yet most caring people she had ever met. Even Logan, in his feral state had made a promise to take care of her. A promise he hadn't been able to fulfill in the end, but now really wasn't the time to hash it over. Now it was time to smile and bargain with the customers.

Sam came back shortly after noon, looking quite smug. He handed Marie a brown paper bag.

"Found this from a small shop. Thought you might like it…" Gifts were rare occasion in their family, so Marie took the bag from him eagerly and opened it. Inside was a small jeweler's box.

"Sam…" She held the box on her palm and looked at him questioningly.

"I have been listening your petty excuses to why you can't move in to settlement. This one will take care of at least one of those," Sam said, took the box from her and opened it. Inside was a small ring. Simple band made out of steel.

"It'll turn off mutations. Slip it on, and you can be like anybody else. Touch other people, wear any clothes you like, kiss, have sex…"

"Young man! My sex life, or the lack of it isn't your concern!" Marie scolded him, trying to smile and failing miserably.

"Duh! My point was, that you could have a normal life. Do everything other people can do. Have fun. Come on… Just take it. Put it on," Sam urged, pushing the box back to her. She took it, but closed the lid.

"Not now. Maybe later. Now I'm safer if my skin's on…"

"Huh! That was the last of them…" Lorry was empty aside from hangers and racks. Few times she had had to return home with a pile of clothes instead of the money, but this time she had managed to sell every piece, even with a good price. She wouldn't have to worry over next winter. She could even afford to some luxuries. Real coffee. Few extra bars of soap. Maybe go and see fights tonight. Spend a night in the settlement. Have some fun as Sam had proposed. Her fingers dove in to the pocket of her pants, and grazed lightly the velvet surface of the small box. No. Better let it be. She was carrying too much cash to go unprotected. She checked the truck one last time before going to find a suitable place to sleep over.

She managed to find moderately cheap room from an Inn near the marketplace.

"You in here for the fights?" Owner asked when cashing her in. She nodded little hesitantly. She wasn't actually sure what had made her stay, but fights sounded as good reason as any other.

"You're in for a real treat, then. I heard there are some veterans on the roster!" Owner smiled gap-toothed smile.

"Veterans?" she asked puzzled.

"Yeah. You know, from the war? The first war?" Owner clarified. Suddenly her mouth felt awfully dry. The few times Sam had gone in the cage, it had been filled with beer-bellied farmers and not much else. Now there would be trained fighters.

"I heard there's even one Destroyer. Swiped the cage clean in the last town they visited…"

"Aren't they all in the field?" she squeaked. Owner of the Inn mistook her quivering voice as a sign of enthusiasm.

"No, ma'am! Most of the Destroyers left the force after the peace treaty. I heard this one puts in a good show. You should go and settle in, you don't want to miss it…" Man said, flashing a wide smile and winking at her knowingly.

Arena was few blocks away from the Inn. Huge cage, erected to the border of the settlement, and an auditorium built around it. Place was packed full with cheering and applauding people, but she managed to find a place near the ringside. Fighters were already entering the cage, each and every one of them wearing makeshift armors. No weapons were allowed, but many of them seemed to have found a way around that rule by decorating their padding and plates with spikes and blades. She spotted Sam, standing in the middle of the crowd, stretching his muscles and jumping slightly to warm up. He had used old tires of the truck to make an armor that shielded him from head to toe. He had used a whole week to it, then cursed and used another week to remodel it until it fit perfectly. He reminded a tortoise, but she had seen him moving around in it. No tortoise could move so graciously and efficiently.

There were ten men in the cage. Five more entered, their stance and attitude separating them from local fighters. They were part of the crew that arranged these matches. Instantly her eyes fixed to a bare back of one of those men. She recognized it. Recognized the way the muscles moved under flawless skin. Wild, dark hair, strong neck and shoulders, slightly crouched and tense posture. Way he was observing his surroundings.

"Logan…"

Hours passed. Men fell one after an other, until there were only two men left standing.

"Go down, kid. And stay down…" The one everybody called Wolverine growled. Sam shook his head. He hadn't fought this long just to give up.

"If somebody's going down, it'll be you…" He hissed, spitting off blood that trickled from a cut lip.

"Don't say I didn't warn you…" Wolverine snorted. His fist connected to the chest piece of Sam's armor, punching him off from his feet.

"Stay the fuck down… Those ribs will heal in a month, but brain damage is more serious matter…" Wolverine grunted and kneed him to the side when he tried to get up. Sam rolled away from him and sprung on his feet.

"It's not even that much money. Are you really willing to die over two thousand credits?" wolverine asked, tilting his head. Sam punched his fists together.

"Nobody's going to die in here. But you're going down now," he promised, charging towards his opponent headfirst. The way he had finished most of his fights tonight, head-butting other fighters unconscious. Only this time it didn't work.

Wolverine's knee was pressing between his shoulder blades. One of his arms was curled around his throat, twisting his head painfully backwards. Other kept his flailing arms out of the way.

"Give up already. I'll split the pot with you if you stay down now," Sam could hear him murmur, close to his ear. Then suddenly grip around his throat tightened to the point that it was almost impossible to breathe.

"Where is she!"

"Who…" Sam managed to choke out the question. Wolverine paid no attention to his struggles, just leaned closer against him, until his nose was practically buried to the back of his neck.

"Fuck…" Suddenly helmet was yanked away from him. Sharp knock to the back of his head was enough to stop Sam from getting up.

Father and son 

His head was spinning. It was hard to think. It was hard to breathe. Then somebody was kneeling over him, tugging his gauntlets.

"Give those to me…" Angry hiss. His mother.

"Mom…"

"Shut up. Stay down. I'll take care of this."

"Yet another contestant seems to have stepped in the ring! This is getting interesting!" Loudspeakers boomed. Logan could only stare at the petite woman in front of him. Gone was the pixie-like creature he remembered. Work-hardened body had replaced slender curves. There was a feral gleam in the eyes that had once shined love and caring. Delicate hands were now hidden under thick gauntlets made out of black rubber and covered with razorblades. She bared her teeth and let out a low, guttural growl. It was the only warning he got before she launched herself to him, staying well out of his reach, jabbing steady, sharp punches when ever his guard dropped, drawing blood with every connecting hit.

At first she had been horrified. Ready to run if he noticed her. Then fight had broken out, and Sam had drawn her whole attention. She was his mother. She worried. Logan momentarily forgotten she had stared in awe when Sam had finished opponent after another, seemingly effortless. She had cheered along when people around her had cheered. She had booed when situation required it. Then there had been only two men standing, and reality had invaded her mind again. She had started to make her way towards the cage when it started to look like Sam was loosing. Not a surprise to her. Nobody could take down Wolverine. When Logan had pinned Sam to the ground she had prayed that he wouldn't take in Sam's scent. Foolish prayer. When Logan had knocked Sam unconscious, something inside of her had snapped. She wasn't going to just stand and watch when her son got beaten to pulp. No matter who or what did the beating.

Every punch hurt like a bitch, but Logan was practically purring from contentment. She was fire and ice, blood and barbed wire, ready to defend their son no matter what. For his son that stubborn fighter was. First he had caught a whiff of Marie's scent on him, and sudden pang of jealousy and black hatred had made him nearly kill the other man. At the final possible second, before Logan had snapped his neck he had smelled something else. His own scent mingling with Marie's. That had identified the now unconscious kid as their son to him; instead of possible lover he had first mistaken him.

He didn't answer to Marie's attacks, merely fended them off for the most part. When she showed no signs of tiring he finally pinned her to the ground with his body, restraining her hands above her head. Marie let out a startled shriek. Crowd around them was chanting for blood. Suddenly Marie kneed him to the groin. Blow made air hiss out of his lungs and his eyes water, but he refused to let go of her.

"You should have done that twenty years ago…" He whispered, leaning closer to her face. Confused look clouded her eyes.

"Is it you? Really just you?"

"Just me, Marie."

When it looked like she had calmed down, he let go of her, stood up and backed away few steps, still guarding her every move carefully. Yet she managed to take him by surprise.

"You fucking bastard!" She threw him with the gauntlets, then turned her back and went to the boy who was now struggling to stand up.

"Come on… That's it. Get up. I'll have a room. We can go and take care of you…"

"But what about… What about the money?" Boy was wheezing, eyeing Logan maliciously.

"It doesn't matter. We have to go now. This isn't a good place…" Suddenly the boy straightened his back.

"You're afraid of him. Why?" He asked.

"It's nothing. Come on. Let's go…" Marie tried to push him to the direction of the door, but boy refused to move. He shrugged Marie's hands off from him and took a step closer to Logan. He could see boy's nostrils flaring briefly.

"It's him…"

"Sam, no. We have to go…" Marie was struggling now in earnest, throwing herself in front of her son, trying to stop him. Boy kept walking until he stood nose to nose with Logan, Marie squished between them.

"You fucking piece of shit raped her."

Two raging bests towered over her. She could feel vibrations of their growling coursing through her whole body. Logan's hand reached over her shoulder and locked around Sam's throat.

"You little prick don't know jack shit about what went down back there, so keep your mouth shut. That's something between me and your mother," Logan murmured low under his breath.

"Just because you're my son doesn't mean that I won't hurt you. Go. Walk away before I'll do something we all regret…" Logan snorted, shoving Sam backwards, releasing his grip from around his throat.

"Mom?" Sam's eyes searched hers.

"Go back to the truck. Wait for me there. I'll come as soon as I have talked with… With your father."

Logan was still growling, his whole body tense. When Sam moved, turned around and started walking towards the cage door Marie had to keep Logan back so that he wouldn't go after him. She stood there, nervous and agitated man pressing against her back for what felt like eternity. People watching the match were now silent, leaving. It was obvious that the fight was over. House had won. Not one of their own, so there would be no celebrations and a big reward ceremony.

At the door Sam stopped and turned to look at them. Marie waved him to go. She really needed to talk with Logan, alone. No matter how terrified and alone she felt with him, she had to squish the urge to run, and face him. Logan seemed to think the same.

"You have a room? Can we go there? We need to talk, and it's kind of private," he said raising his voice towards the end of the sentence, to ward off his team members who had woken up and circled them.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Wolverine…" One of them said. Shiver run down Marie's spine upon hearing that name.

Crossing the desert 

She tried to act nonchalantly. Here she was, walking down the street. There were no worries. Army had cleared off hours ago, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Then her gaze swept over the man walking beside her and suddenly worrying was all she could do. Had she lost the last bit of common sense at the arena? He was Wolverine. Creature that had raped her repeatedly until Mechanics had taken her away from him. Then he gazed towards her, and she could see her own nervousness reflecting from his eyes. He was just Logan. They were both scared.

"It's in here," she stuttered, entering the Inn. Owner of the place was still behind the counter next to the door, and winked her when Logan stepped in after her.

"Told you it would be worth of your time…" Man cackled when they walked past him. She chose to ignore the remark and took the stairs, one at time. Her room was on the second floor. At the door she stopped, suddenly hesitant. Room was awfully small. As if reading her mind, Logan cleared his throat.

"We don't have to go in there. We can go to tavern, if…" He spoke softly. She pushed the door open and walked in.

"You coming or going?" She asked, tilting her head when Logan remained at the doorstep. Sighing he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

It took all her strength and will not to bolt straight back out from the room. It really is small. Tiny. Tiny like a fucking cardboard box. Logan shifted uneasily, hand rising and combing his fingers through tousled mess of his hair.

"Marie, I… I'm sorry about what happened." His voice was flat, as was his apology, too. It only managed to re-awaken the anger she had suppressed after Sam was born.

"You're sorry? Is that all you have to say?" She snarled.

"Yeah. What else there is to say? That there hadn't been a day that I haven't thought about you? That I have spent all these years looking for you? That I crawled under a rock and died?" Logan's hackles rose, too.

"That would be a good start."

"That would be a fucking lie. I haven't lied to you before, and I'm not about to start it now. For the past years I have tried to forget that you even existed. I was doing just fine. What the hell are you doing in here?" Logan growled.

"I live here. What is your excuse?" Marie spat, crouching slightly, balling her fists.

"I don't… I… We didn't… Oh, fuck this. Can we start over? Without this fucking childish bickering?" Logan asked, sitting heavily on the bed. Frame of it squeaked alarmingly under his weight. At the arena he had been impressed about the way Marie had thrown away everything and attacked him in order to save her… Their son, but now her less than friendly attitude managed only to make things harder. His own temper wasn't helping much in that matter.

"I'm not planning to come back and screw up your life again. Or my life. It became quite apparent, that bad things happen if we stick together. I'm traveling with that freak show. I was just surprised to see you. I thought… I thought you died back there…" Logan said, his voice cracking slightly over his last words.

"I thought you were dead, too. I was happy for it. It was kind of sad. I had loved you, but it was such a relief to think that I didn't have to run and hide from you anymore. I have a life now. Not perfect, but not completely miserable either." Logan nodded and hung his head.

"You did it? Blow up that hellhole?" He suddenly asked.

"I guess so. Everything just crumbled from around me. When it was over, I walked away. There was nobody to stop me."

"It took me a fucking week to crawl out from that pile of rubble. Cleared my head nicely. I was almost sane when I got back to surface. Army had already been there. They had salvaged what they thought they could still use and left. Thanks."

"For what?" Marie asked puzzled.

"For getting us out from there. For finishing it."

"You're welcome. Are we good now?" She asked.

"Yeah. I guess we are…" Logan said.

"Good. I have to go and take care of Sam…"

"Sam? It's a good name," Logan said, standing up. She reached for the doorknob when his hand closed around hers.

"Can I… Marie, can I just hold you for a while?"

She froze. There was no way he had asked it. No way. And there was no way in fucking heaven or earth that she would say yes. No. She turned stiffly around to face him again, fear twisting her insides. He stood there, impassive mask fallen over his features. He leaned closer, bracing his hands to both sides of her, against the doorframe. His nostrils flared slightly and he swallowed. She could only stare at him.

"Can I?" He asked again. He looked calm and composed, but his voice betrayed his true feelings. He was as scared as she. That gave her the necessary strength to push him backwards.

"No." She turned around, opened the door and walked out, waiting for the inevitable feel of his hands on her. It never came, and she kept walking. Out from the room. Out from the Inn. To the truck where Sam was waiting.

"Everything all right?" Sam asked when she climbed to the driver's seat. She nodded. She didn't trust her voice enough to speak. She was scared. She was angry. She felt disgusted. She had made it on her own all these years, never backing down, and now one man managed to make her tremble out of fear and run like a little helpless girl.

"We're going home now?" Sam asked, shifting on the seat uneasily. He had taken off his armor and wrapped his ribs, but she knew he must be in pain. It would be best to return to the room she had booked from the Inn and let Sam sleep for a while, at least couple of days, but she couldn't go back there, not as long as the fighters were in town.

"We're going home. Stay sharp." Now there was no convenient convoy offering safety in numbers. It was night, and they would be crossing the desert alone. Sam winced but sat up straighter and grabbed the rifle, checking it was loaded. Spare ammunition was in the glove compartment. He took out a cartridge and put it on the dashboard. Quicker to reload from there, than start hunting more ammo in the middle of a gunfight.

Bandits 

They got as far as to half way through the route when searchlights swept over the truck.

"Fucking vultures…" Sam muttered, cocking the rifle. Marie could see at least five vehicles circling around their truck. Small and agile little things, most likely hovercrafts. At least two of them were heavily armed, with pulse cannons installed to the front. One blast from one of those and the truck's engine would be toast. Of course the guy operating those monsters had to know what he was doing. They were so high-powered weapons that as easily as they could just stop the truck, they could blow it up completely, leaving bandits with nothing but a smoking pile of bent metal. If she could keep driving, they probably wouldn't risk loosing their intended loot.

"Incoming!" Sam shouted warning just as one of the hovercrafts crashed against the truck's side. They were going to force her off-road, to the sinking sand. She would get stuck if the truck slipped in there. Truck swerved, but she managed to keep it on the road.

"I swear if we get away from them, I'll start working on this babe…" She murmured. She still remembered bits and pieces from the truck she had taken apart with Logan. It would have to be enough, because bandits were getting more skilled every year that passed.

Hovercraft rammed to the back of the truck, making the whole vehicle swerve and tremble. She fought with the steering wheel, trying to make it obey her will. From the corner of her eye she could see red glow. Hover was powering up the pulse cannon.

"Sam, can you get those cannons out of the game?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. Those suckers are so heavily armored that I doubt it, but I can try…" Sam muttered, leaning over her lap and opening the side window. Shooting from a moving platform to a moving target wasn't easy, but he had gotten quite skilled in that during these years.

"Can't take out cannons, but I'll see if I can slow down those hovers…"

First shot just grazed armoring of the hovercraft lightly, but it was enough to scare the driver. When he slowed down Sam got a better aim to the hover, and he managed to blow up the air intake on the craft's left side, putting it out of commission temporarily.

"Now that other fucker…" He said, sitting up and checking the situation from the rearview mirror.

"Shit… Mom! More bogies coming in!" She risked a glance and swore. Sam was right. He had disabled one of the hovercrafts, but something bigger was approaching them from behind, fast. Another truck. Armed from bottom to the roof, with all imaginable weaponry there was.

It was big. It was ugly. It looked clumsy as hell, but it was gaining them fast. Soon it was close enough to nudge the bumper of their truck with its own. Then it opened fire. Three machine guns, pulse cannon and two flamethrowers practically eviscerated small hovercrafts from around them.

"Oh, my God…"

"Might as well give up. That bastard is too big and mean for us," Sam hissed, banging the dashboard angrily with his fist. Armed truck drove to their side. She couldn't see inside because of the tinted windows. It drove beside them for a while, then suddenly sped up and swerved in front of them.

"What the fuck is going on?" Sam whispered. They had seen three more hovercrafts coming towards them. Looked like who ever was driving the armed truck wasn't going to let anybody else to the loot. Heavy truck squished one of the hovers under its wheels and pulse cannon made short work from the other two. That task completed it slowed down and fell back beside Marie's truck.

"It's dad," Sam said.

"How do you know?" Marie asked.

"Who else would drive a tank like that? And it kind of helps recognition when it reads 'Wolverine' on the door of that beast…"

"Shit. Shitshitshit… Fuck."

"What are you doing?" Sam asked when their speed started to slow down.

"I don't want him to find out where we live. I'm stopping." She eased her foot from the gas slowly and let the truck grind to a halt. Bigger truck stopped too. Driver's door opened, and Logan climbed down, lighting a cigar. He walked to their truck and just stared at them through the windshield, puffing the cigar.

"Oh, crap. Stay here…" Marie muttered to Sam and climbed out to meet their rescuer.

"Are you fucking nuts? Driving around alone in this piece of shit! You're lucky one of the guys saw you leaving…"

"I left because of you. I didn't ask you to follow me."

"Fuck you, too, Marie. Hop in and drive home. I'll make sure you'll get there in one piece. I'll fix this thing that you call a truck and…"

"No. Leave us alone."

"No, Marie. You don't like me that much, and for that I don't blame you. But I'm not going to sit back and watch you get yourself killed. Drive. I'll follow. I have spare parts in the back. I can start working with that truck of yours as soon as we get to your place. Might take couple of days, and after that I'll leave. I'll leave for good."

"He didn't take no for an answer?" Sam asked when she started the engine and Logan's truck pulled after them.

Vote of mistrust 

Marie had handed him the keys to her truck and retreated to the cabin, telling that she was tired. It suited him just fine. The less distractions there were, faster he could get the work done. Speaking of which…

"Shouldn't you go to sleep, too?" He asked, noticing Sam who was sitting at the front porch of the cabin, hands clasped over his sides.

"No. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

"Fine. You got those ribs wrapped?" He asked, circling the truck, checking it over to see what needed fixing.

"Don't you worry about that… Dad." Sam spat the last word out like it was poison.

"Okay…" Boy's attitude started to piss him off, so he chose to turn his back on him and crawl under the truck to see if everything was okay in there. He could hear footsteps. They stopped. Sam crouched next to the truck, air wheezing out of his lungs painfully.

"I won't let you fuck this up. Mom really needs this truck."

"Right. That's why I blew up those bandits. Just to mess around with this piece of crap and maybe cut the brake line…" Logan murmured, tightening couple of loose bolts that he spotted before crawling back out from under the vehicle. Sam backed to the front porch of the cabin again.

"I need to take this thing apart before I can do anything else. You're going to watch me, or are you going to help?" Logan asked, tilting his head.

"What exactly are you planning to do?" Sam asked when they started to strip the truck bare.

"Little make-over. This is older than my truck, but basically the same model. I'll put some armor over it, maybe more power to the engine, and I have extra pair of flamethrowers. I could of course go and get a pulse cannon from the settlement…" Logan muttered, piling loose parts to neat piles to the side of the cabin.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked. Logan shot him a curious look.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Do you think this will make mom forget what happened? Is this a part of some sort of scheme to lure your way back to her life?"

"Like I said to you earlier, you have no idea of what happened back then. What it was like. You have no place or right to talk about it," Logan said.

"And no. I'm not planning to stay. I'm leaving as soon as I have this finished," he added quickly when Sam's face reddened from anger.

"I don't understand. What's in this for you? What do you get out of this? It isn't like those spare parts and guns are free. Are you trying to pay for her for what you did?"

"Your mother is not a whore. I'm doing this because of what we once were. Because of what she once meant for me. And that's all there is for you to know."

"You keep telling me I should just ignore the fact that you raped my mom and keep my mouth shut. Now, what kind of a bastard I would be if I did that?" Sam asked when they were checking over the engine.

"Alive bastard, for sure. Look, it was hard for both of us. It happened. We dealt with it with our own ways. Just let it be already," Logan grunted, wiping the grease from his hands to a rag he had pulled from his back pocket. He was going to snap if the boy didn't shut up soon.

"Look, just go to bed. You need to rest. Those ribs will be sore as hell in the morning. I got this covered."

"I'm sure it would suit you just fine…" Sam growled.

"What the fuck is your problem, boy? I'm trying to help your mom!" Logan huffed.

"Like you helped her when the Army caught her and threw her in to that hell?" Sam snorted.

"You asshole wouldn't even exist if it wasn't for the Army. If I were you, I would go to sleep and forget this subject right now…" Logan hissed, claws straining the soft skin between his knuckles.

"Thank God I'm nothing like you!" Sam spat.

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that. I refuse to believe that we bred a moron back then, or that Marie raised one. Go to sleep. We'll talk later." When Sam looked like he wasn't going to comply, Logan raised his hands, palms flat in front of him.

"The sooner you go, the sooner I can get this finished. The sooner I can get this finished, the sooner I can leave. Go to sleep and we both win."

"What are you going to do if I stay? Claw me?" Sam growled. Logan snorted and turned back to the engine.

"Mom?" She opened her eyes and sat up, rubbing her face groggily.

"What is it?"

"I just came to tell you that I'm going to bed. If you need anything, just shout." Sam was hovering at the doorstep.

"I will. How's Logan?" She asked.

"I don't know. Either he's trying to mess up the truck for good, or he's really trying to help. I don't want you to go out alone while he's there."

"Sam…"

"No, mom. I don't want you to get hurt again. If you need something just ask me. I'll go and get it. I don't trust him."

"Fine," Marie huffed. Again she was reminded of how alike both men were. Protective streak wider than a freaking Grand Canyon.

"Good night, mom."

"Good night, Sam."

She waited until she was quite sure that Sam had fallen asleep before getting up and dressed. She didn't feel like sleeping anymore.

"Might as well go and see what's happening…" Logan was upgrading her truck, but after he was gone she would have to keep it up and running by herself. Wouldn't hurt to see how it was done.

He had fallen to sleep soon after Sam had left. Wouldn't hurt to take a small nap he had reasoned and climbed to the cab of his truck. Soft knock on the door woke him up. Scent wafting from the air vents identified the knocker to him. Marie. He stretched and yawned before opening the door.

"Morning," Marie greeted him whispering. Sun was rising.

"Didn't have time to go shopping, so I don't have coffee. You drink tea?" She asked, handing him a steaming cup. Scent of herbs tickled his nose. He took the offered cup, nodding a quiet thanks before taking a sip.

"How does it look like?" She asked tilting her head towards her truck that stood stripped bare in front of the cabin.

"Not bad. It's a sturdy little critter. I'll put heavier coat on it… Flamethrowers… Do you want a pulse cannon? I could mount it to the hood." Marie just shrugged.

"What ever you think is necessary." Logan flashed a dry, tight-lipped smile to her.

"Sam doesn't trust me very much."

"He doesn't know you. I have told him everything what happened. How we first met to the point where I left the breeding center. I guess he only heard the bad parts."

"Was there something good, too?" Logan asked cocking his brow and handing the empty cup back to her before climbing down from the truck.

"Yeah. There was. Lots of good things. Don't you think so?" Marie asked. It was Logan's turn to shrug.

"I guess there was…"

"You were the first person I could touch for a long time. You gave me hope that there could be something in this life, in this world for me, too."

"And then I took it away. But it was good while it lasted…" Logan muttered, gazing to the rising sun.

"It wasn't completely your fault."

"What do you mean? Last time I checked, it was I who violated you," Logan said.

"If I wasn't such a coward, I could have stopped you. I still don't know how to use my mutations. I'm too scared to learn how to use them. They're so powerful…"

"Yeah. Well, no use to squabble over whose fault it was. It happened… What do you say if we start working on that truck of yours? I'll show you how it's done so that you can keep it in shape by yourself."

"Take that part and tighten that screw just a bit…" She was leaning over the engine, reaching to the side of it. Logan was behind her back, holding her up and giving her instructions when it happened. Sudden impact from the side threw them apart, dropping Marie against the side of the truck and throwing Logan few meters away from her. Thought of Camo flashed briefly in her mind, then she heard an angry howl. Sam was towering over Logan who lay sprawled on the ground, claws out, ready to bounce.

_Convoy_

"I already told you, boy… I won't tolerate this kind of behavior just because you're my son. Get the fuck out of my face…"

"Or what, old man?" Sam taunted. Logan moved calmly but efficiently, twisting his torso and sweeping Sam on his back to the ground with well-placed kick to his knees.

"Back off from my case or I swear I cut you to so small fucking shreds that your mom can use you to tie her shoes," Logan murmured, pinning Sam to the ground with his body, claws grazing his jugular. For a moment Sam looked like he was about to speak, but Logan silenced him by retracting the claws from his left hand and pressing the palm of that hand over his mouth.

"Now, I don't know what exactly Marie has told to you, or how much you have paid attention when she has spoken to you, but there's one thing that is clearly forgotten from you. I'm not the usual father figure with nine to five job and small beer-belly. I'm not the daddy who scolds you and warns you off from the neighbor's daughter. I'm the type who drinks a lot, fights and screws that said daughter himself. Only reason I haven't cut you up already is your mother. She wouldn't probably like too much if I gutted you like a fish. Get. Off. My. Case." Last four words were accentuated with small taps of his claws against Sam's jugular.

"You're insane…" Sam wheezed when Logan's weight left his body and older man rolled smoothly on his feet. Logan offered his hand to him to help him up.

"Clever boy. Remember that the next time you feel the urge to waltz with me." Then he turned to Marie who was now standing, torn look on her face.

"Shall we? Have to get this beast purring before it starts to rain," he said, picking up the screwdriver she had dropped when Sam had bounced on them.

"I think I need to go and lie down…" She whispered before running in to the cabin, slamming the door shut so hard that it bounced straight back open after her, leaving both men standing and staring the door that rattled on it's hinges.

"Now look what you did…" Logan grunted, starting towards the cabin, his first instinct to go after Marie, to see if she was all right. Sam beat him in to it, stepping in front of him and blocking his entrance. Logan's eyes narrowed. Then he huffed and nodded.

"Take care of her."

Rest of the day he spent working on the truck. Last thing he did was to install flamethrowers to the roof of the cab.

"Those are not much, but they're better than nothing. How about a test-drive?" Logan asked from Sam who had been sitting on the front porch, guarding the door of the cabin jealously.

"I'm not the driver. Mom is. I'll go and get her," Sam said after careful consideration. He had wanted to lie and take the wheel Logan had offered, but it would have to be Sam's mom. She would have to learn to handle the truck. She would have to learn it from Logan. Sam wouldn't be here long anymore, and Logan was going to take off soon, too.

"Aren't you coming?" Logan asked surprised when Sam remained on the ground while Marie climbed on the driver's seat. Sam shook his head. Cab of the truck wasn't big enough for the three of them. It would have been before, but now that his ribs were throbbing and sore from the fight with Logan he wasn't going to be able to sit still.

"Suit yourself. This might take some time. I was thinking we could drop by the settlement and get that pulse cannon I talked about earlier," Logan said, doors of the truck closed and it sped away.

"I wasn't going to hurt him. Couldn't do that. No more than I could hurt you," Logan said after they had driven half an hour in uncomfortable silence. Marie just grunted in response, taking in the changes within the truck. Steering wheel was more rigid to handle. Whole truck felt heavier, somehow clumsy.

"What did you do to my baby?" She finally asked.

"Just told him few hard facts, I think he…" Logan's voice trailed off when Marie's amused laughter filled the cab.

"Oh, you mean the truck?" He asked, smirking sheepishly, admiring the way Marie's smile seemed to light up the nearly dark cab. Sun was setting.

"Of course I meant the truck! Sam hardly is a baby anymore!"

"That's something we have to agree to disagree… Okay… I had some leftover armoring from when I built my truck. This cab is now bulletproof. Lorry is unprotected. There are two flamethrowers up on the roof, you can control them with this…" His fingers popped open a small compartment near the steering wheel, revealing a radar screen with a row of buttons under it.

"Just push this button…" He pressed a bright red button on the left side of the screen and yellow grid net fell over the green screen.

"With this you can aim, or you can press this and they search the targets by themselves. Wouldn't count on that too much, though. Learn to aim," Logan ended the explanation and closed the compartment. His hand lingered on top of the lid a while before he retreated back to the passenger's side of the cab.

"What else?" Marie asked.

"Christ! What more do you want? You're a needy woman…" Logan grunted smiling.

"Well, it certainly has been a while, but that wasn't what I was referring to. Come on! I know you. You didn't spend day and a half tinkering with this baby just to give me a chance to fry some ants!" Marie huffed. It was getting easier to relax in Logan's company.

"Well, there's this ultra-secret weapon stashed under the hood of this beast. It'll send out an EM pulse if you turn on the radio, windshield wipers and radar at the same time…" Logan smiled and whispered conspiratorially.

"Really?" Marie asked.

"No. But there's one weapon, even more powerful than those pulse cannons in here," Logan said with a serious tone.

"What do you mean?" Marie asked confused.

"You. Learn to use your mutations and you can cross this desert even by foot if you need to."

"I rather not. I have already spent enough time sucking dry sand, thank you." Logan shrugged.

"Suit yourself. By the way, it looks like we got company," he said, nodding towards the rearview mirror. Marie's hand went to the radar, but Logan covered it with his palm.

"Wait. They're not bandits. It's a convoy."

"A convoy?" She squeaked, hating how weak her voice suddenly sounded.

"Yeah. Pull over." She obeyed him numbly, stopping to the side of the road and turning off the engine. They just sat there and waited until last of the heavily armed vehicles passed them.

"Come on. Let's get out for a while…" Logan said, opened the door and stepped out to the night. Marie sat still for a while before following him, slight trembling revealing her frazzled state.

"That bad, huh?" Logan asked. She breathed deeply, leaning his palms to her knees, trying to stop the tremors racing through her whole body. She felt Logan's palm on her back, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. There was a slight tremble too. She wasn't the only one scared.

"Every fucking time… It's not the same anymore. They're not after me, I know that, but every fucking time I see them all I can think about is that they're going to drag me back in…" She could hear him speak. His hand had stopped and lay on her upper back, flat and warm. She rose from her crouched position to face him, and extended her arms.

"Come here…" He approached her hesitantly before surrendering to her embrace, and answering to it by wrapping his arms around her.

It took a while from both of them to relax and let go of the fear that had settled over, but eventually they broke the embrace, reluctantly.

"We should get going. Those guys will keep bandits away, and…" Logan said, clearing his throat.

"Yeah… That would be good… Yeah. Let's get going."

_Shopping_

It was close to dawn when they finally arrived to the settlement. Marketplace was slowly filling with tents and makeshift counters that were nearly crumbling under the weight of the goods merchants were selling.

"Are you in a hurry?" Marie asked. Logan shrugged his shoulders.

"Not particularly. Guys I traveled with are already used to this…"

"Damsel in distress and Logan rides to rescue?" Marie asked, masking the disappointment in her voice with a cough.

"No. I need my space. It's safer to travel in caravan, but every now and then I stay behind. When all that noise and life gets too much I take a few days off and catch up with them later."

"Oh… I was just thinking that I could do some shopping while we are in here. We make by just fine on our own, but there are some things you can't make yourself, and I'm not about to give up on them," Marie explained.

"Fine. Can I trust you to stay out of trouble if I go and get that pulse cannon while you shop?" Logan asked with a serious tone.

"Hey!" Her hackles rose instantly. Was he hinting that she was some sort of helpless nitwit? Then she saw Logan's lips curl to a lopsided grin.

"Just teasing. See you in an hour, that okay?" Logan asked. She nodded.

When she returned to the truck an hour later, carrying various bags and pouches Logan was already waiting for her, sitting on the hood of the truck and puffing a cigar.

"Need a hand with those?" He asked, grabbing a bag that was slipping out from her grasp.

"Thanks! I usually come here with Sam, but it's better that I learn to do this by myself now…" She grunted, hefting her purchases to the back of the truck. Logan followed her and added the bag he had taken to the pile.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Sam's going to became a soldier. He's been talking about it for years now. Got tired of hearing him nagging about it every fucking day. Promised he could go. I believe he's leaving as soon as he heals up," Marie said, stretching her back and gazing the buzzing crowd around them.

"Like hell he is. I can save him the trouble and cripple him for good, then he won't have to leave home to experience that pleasure," Logan barked.

"No. Sam's a big boy. He needs to make his own mistakes."

"What about you? You'll be alone…"

"Logan, I have been alone all my life. I can take care of myself. I'm not that naïve kid you met twenty years ago. She died in that cell." Marie's words made him cringe and comb his fingers through the thick mane of his hair.

"You think I haven't beaten myself over what happened back there? Well, I guess it's only fair to let you get few licks of the blood, too…"

"That's not what I meant. I was scared. I'm still scared of you. But what happened, it happened. You didn't want to do it, but it kept us both alive."

"What the fuck were you doing there anyway?" Logan snarled, still on the edge.

"I worked in a bar. Owner of that place knew that I was a mutant. His daughter had been a mutant, too. He gave me a ring that was supposed to hide my mutation. It didn't work. When I put it on… Well, he had asked his friend to do that ring for his daughter, to keep her safe from the Army. That friend wasn't too clever. He had gotten an old suppression collar from somewhere and he had used it to make that ring. As soon as I put it on my finger, it activated the tracking device and they caught me. As soon as they found out what my mutation was they carted me to that center. It wasn't like I had the freedom to choose!" She finished her story and stomped angrily past him, climbing to the truck. Logan opted to stay outside, taking long drags from the cigar, inhaling the aromatic smoke until he could feel it swirling at the bottom of his lungs. Of course she hadn't had any options. Nobody had back then. But in the cell she hadn't been collared. She could have stopped him. She could have if she had bothered to learn how to use the mutation she gained at the Free Zone. One small cold cloud of blue dust, and there would have been left only the adamantium frame of his skeleton, not much good to anything else but to serve maybe as a coat rack.

"You got everything you need?" Logan asked when he climbed in. She just nodded and turned on the engine. She didn't trust her mouth to speak out loud. Who the hell knew what would come out next. Logan was obviously pissed off already. Better just stay quiet and return to home. He could take his truck and go. Life would return to normal. She would fight with Sam occasionally, but at least she wouldn't be this disgustingly scared and insecure anymore once Logan left.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," Logan suddenly said.

"I hate the scent of it on you. Makes me sick."

"You don't get sick. And I can't help it. I know it wasn't… I know that you were pretty messed up back then, and that you wouldn't do it anymore. I thought I had already gotten over it, but seeing you made it all come back to me. I can't just stop it. I can't just decide not to be afraid, when first thing that comes to my mind when I see you is that I should run and hide before you hurt me again."

"Well, I'm not planning to make any moves at you. Don't even know if I could get it up anymore…" Logan grunted lighting another cigar from the stub of the one he smoked earlier.

"What?"

"You think it was some sort of joyride for me? To rape you? To get strapped down and get my fucking innards sucked out through my cock? Haven't felt like a good idea to have sex after that little trip to hell." He rolled down the window to let out the smoke. Marie kept her gaze fixed to the road ahead. She didn't want to listen anymore. Maybe Logan would keep quiet if she pretended to ignore him.

One reason why she had clung so tightly to the feeling of fear was that she used it to replace the horrible empty space him being gone had left inside of her. It was cold and lonely. World was big and scary, but if she turned that fear around, directed it to Logan instead of the rest of the world, she could keep going. She couldn't let go of it now. Logan was leaving. It was better to keep on fearing him, than to admit that she needed somebody, maybe Logan to fill up the empty and silent patch she had stumbled upon after she had thought that he had been killed. She couldn't do it if he kept talking. Every bit of information she had gotten from him had diminished the fear, made her see the man instead of the animal.

_Stuck_

"Oh, fuck…" Logan grunted suddenly.

"What now?" Marie asked. Logan pointed at the windshield.

"It's starting to rain…"

"Oh, fuck…"

They had been making good progress; they were only hour's way from home. There lied the problem. Ten minutes would be long enough to turn the road to a puddle of mud. An hour would be long enough to make whole desert to a giant puddle of mud and quicksand.

"Step on it! Closer we get, better chances we got!" Logan growled.

"No shit? I was just thinking we could stop and admire the view…"

"Marie…" There was a warning tone in Logan's voice. Don't-fuck-with-me –tone.

"You think this is the first time this has happened to me? This happens fucking every year! We'll be fine!" Marie said.

"This baby of yours isn't exactly lightweight anymore! It's slower and heavier than it was last year! If you don't find a steady ground soon, it'll start to sink, no matter how fast you drive!"

"I didn't ask you to make this fat!" Marie screeched, realizing how absurd it sounded when Logan barked out a nervous laughter.

"You didn't ask. Period. Let's switch places. Come on," he grunted, pulling her off from the driver's seat and taking the wheel. It took couple of seconds fumbling and adjusting, but soon they both sat comfortably, she on the passenger's side, feet propped against the dashboard, and Logan driving. He flipped open the radar and flicked few switches. Strange-looking wavy lines filled the small screen.

"See this?" Logan asked, pointing a red line that was much thicker than other lines. She nodded.

"It's this road. As long as it stays red, we're good to go. As soon as it starts to fade, we're screwed. Or at least this truck is…"

"But it looks like we got lucky…" He muttered more to himself than to Marie and steered the truck suddenly off-road.

"Are you fucking nuts!" Marie screamed, waiting for the inevitable. Soon the truck would stop and it would start sinking. It wasn't raining anymore. Water was practically flowing from the sky in a steady stream. She was sure she would drown if she would have to go outside.

"Yeah, I am. What's your excuse?" Logan asked, swatting her hands away when she tried to grasp the steering wheel. Any time now… Truck was rocking and jerking. Logan's knuckles had turned nearly bone-white, and he kept his eyes fixed forward, peering through the flood that covered the windshield. Truck was sinking and sliding, but he kept pushing on. Suddenly there was a jolt, and the truck lurched forward. Logan stopped and turned off the engine.

"What are you doing?" Marie asked.

"We'll wait here. There's a rock formation under us. It'll keep us on top of this shit. It'll stop raining soon enough, then we just have to wait few hours more and we can drive home. Or we can ditch the truck and walk. I'd prefer waiting. Hate to get wet…" Logan leaned his back against the door, lifted his feet to the dashboard and closed his eyes, crossing his hands over his chest.

"That's it? We just sit here and wait?" Marie asked.

"Yep."

"You do realize this might take a while?" Marie asked.

"Yep."

"Well, at least bandits won't try anything in this weather…"

"Always look on the bright side…"

"It has been two hours."

"Yep."

"It's still raining."

"Yep."

"You're still sleeping?"

"Yep."

"Are you even listening?"

"Yep."

"I was thinking I could move in to the settlement and become a stripper."

"Good for you."

"You think so?"

"Yep. It's safer place to live than out here by yourself. But a stripper? You sure you want to do that?" Logan asked, opening his eyes. Marie lifted her chin.

"Think I'm not up to it?"

"I know you're up to it. You have better-looking body than most of the dancers I have seen. But that's not my point…"

"Oh, you mean the scars… Yeah. I can see why they would be reluctant to hire me as a dancer…"

"Didn't we talk this through once already? There's nothing wrong with the way you look. Nobody would look you twice… Fuck, scratch that. They would look. They would drool. They would want to get their paws on you. Would you be ready for that? Different men with different hands, every fucking night? Groping and grasping…" Shiver run down her spine and a knowing look flashed in Logan's eyes.

"Didn't think so. Do what you do the best. What ever it is that you do."

"I have been making clothes. Now that Sam's leaving… I don't think it's possible anymore."

"Why not?"

"I need leather and pelts. Sam's been hunting. I don't have time to hunt and sew. And if I move in to settlement, there won't be much to hunt around…"

"I'll talk to him."

"Logan, no. Sam needs to live his own life. He can't have that if he stays with me. He's a grown man. If we lived at the settlement, he would probably have a family of his own by now. Wife, few kids… I would be a grandma."

"Is that what you want? Would it be good for you?" Logan asked. Marie nodded.

"Have you talked with Sam about it?"

"Since when did you become this touchy-feely?" Marie asked, trying to distract him. Logan snorted.

"Touchy-feely? You have a problem. I'm trying to help you to solve it. Since you said it wouldn't be a good idea to break the brat, I'll have to figure out something else."

"I have a problem. I have to solve it. Not you. Sam's my son."

"Sam's our son. I haven't been much of a father to him, but I'm responsible, too. As much as I would like to strangle him myself, the idea of him joining to the Army gives me the creeps. It's not a life. No matter how different the situation is now than it was before, one thing's always the same. People die. I may be a selfish bastard, but I think that we have given them enough already."

"Where the fuck were you week ago?" Marie huffed.

"Drunk or fighting."

"Yeah. A week ago, hell, a month ago, all these years that I have fought with Sam over this, that's exactly what I have been thinking; haven't I given enough to this world already? Now that I finally managed to push past that phase, you waltz in and spit it back at my face? Thanks a bunch!"

An hour later it was still raining. Marie was staring out, still fuming silently. Logan had just shrugged his shoulders after her outburst and gone back to sleep. At least he looked like he was sleeping, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm; eyes closed and almost relaxed look on his face. Slight tremble went through his body, and he opened his eyes halfway before muttering something and settling back to sleep, curling his arms tighter around his sides.

"Asshole," Marie whispered, gazing him from the corner of her eye. He didn't have the right to meddle with her life. Oh, it would be so easy to step back and let him take care of everything. It would be so fucking easy, and he would do it, and everything would be okay. Because he knew how to make things work. But she hadn't busted her back over these years just to handle him the reigns of her life when he showed up. And why the hell did he even bother to try to act like a responsible parent and a friend? He had practically kidnapped her and Sam after the match in the arena, only promising to help her out with the truck and leave after it was finished. It sure didn't look like he was going to honor his word.

She was stuck with him.

_Nightmare_

Steady drum of the rain was lulling her to sleep, too. She was just about to enter to the dreamland, when sudden noise shook her awake. It was something from between a growl and a whimper. Part defiant, part pleading.

Logan was in deep sleep, twitching and whispering, thin sheen of sweat covering his skin.

"No…"

"Logan?" She called his name, crawling closer. Man was an asshole, but if he was dreaming about his past… Nobody deserved to go through that hell again.

"No… Don't touch…" He was moaning out loud, fending off the terrors he was seeing with flailing hands.

"Logan!" She shouted, hoping to jolt him awake. It worked, but not as she would have hoped for. Instead of simply waking up Logan came out of his dream with a mighty roar, one hand grasping her throat and pinning her against the passenger's door, claws extending from the other hand and hovering over her face.

His lips twisted to a disgusted grimace, eyes narrowed and he pushed away from her, opening the driver's door and practically falling out from the truck. Marie scooted over the seat and closed the door before the whole cab got flooded. Logan was sitting in the puddle of mud, legs stretched in front of him, leaning to his hands, head bent backwards. It had been just a few seconds, and he was already soaked through, wet clothes hanging on him like a second skin. His chest was heaving and when his head lolled forward before falling back again she could see the look of utter agony on his face. What ever the dream had been about, it had been horrific.

"Logan! Come back inside!" She shouted over the rumbling of the rain. Water was cascading in from the narrow gap between the window and doorframe, but she couldn't just leave him out there.

"Logan! You fucking dissolve or something! Come inside!" He shook his head, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't make me come and get you!" Marie shouted. Logan flopped on his back to the muddy surface.

"Fine. Needed a shower anyway…" Marie muttered, braced herself and pushed the door open, hopping down to the sinking sand.

Water wasn't cold, but the sheer amount it in the air made her cough and sputter. It was hard to see, and she nearly stumbled over Logan's long legs.

"Go away!" She heard him shout.

"Come inside! You can drown yourself to the well once we get back to the cabin! Easier that way!" She responded, kneeling next to him and fumbling blindly until she found his arm.

"Come on!" She tried to drag him up, but Logan squirmed loose from her hold and crawled further from the truck.

"Stop!" If he crawled any further, he would really drown. He was at the edge of the rock formation. She run after him and grabbed his ankles, starting to pull him backwards, towards the solid ground and the truck.

"Let the fuck go of me!" Logan screamed and something sticky and hard hit her to the side of her head. It took her a while to realize what had happened.

"You didn't just threw me with a mud-ball!" She was shocked enough of his behavior that she let go of his ankles. Logan repaid his new freedom with another ball of brown and sticky dirt.

"Stop that! I'm only trying to help!"

"I don't fucking need your help!" Logan hissed sitting up and swiping wet hair back from his forehead. His fingers left muddy imprints on his skin, but they washed away almost immediately. When she tried to approach him, he scooped up a generous pile of the mud and threw it at her, hitting her torso. She screamed and bolted on top of him, forcing him down and covering his face with a liberal amount of brown, gooey substance.

"There! And here's some more!" She snarled almost hysterically, stuffing mud inside of his shirt. Logan let out a low growl and twirled them over, so that he ended on top, and straddled her waist. One hand restrained her arms above her head; other scooped mud and was closing in to her face slowly.

"You wouldn't dare…"

"Watch me." She barely had the time to close her mouth and eyes before sticky pile of mud landed on her face. Logan's weight left her body.

"Stay down. Rain will wash it off," she heard him grunt and decided to obey.

She scraped the last remnants of the gritty mud from her eyelids and sat up. Logan was standing next to her, eyes fixed to the sky above.

"It's slowing down." He was right. She could actually see the truck through the rain, not just hazy outlines of it. She stood up and tried to shake off the sand and mud that had stuck to her clothes. Logan shrugged away his shirt and let the last droplets of the water to wash away the mud she had gotten on him. Sun was already peeking through the clouds.

"What happened?" She asked. They were sitting on the hood of the truck, soaking up the sun and waiting for the ground to dry up.

"Nightmare."

"You have them often?" She asked.

"This was the first one in years. I'm sorry… I'm sorry if I scared you," Logan said, letting his gaze settle over the horizon, clearly not comfortable with the topic.

"I had those too. Several years after…"

"Yeah. Life's a bitch," Logan muttered, combing his fingers through the tangled mess of his hair, letting loose a small cloud of sand and dust. He leaned backwards, propping himself to a half-sitting position with his elbows. She couldn't help admiring the view of his naked torso, all that muscle bulging and rippling under the tanned skin. She wondered if he would still feel the same. Warm and solid. How he would react if she let her palm wander over the expanse of his chest. She shook her head and hid her burning cheeks behind a tangled veil of her hair, starting to comb it with her fingers to get out now dried up mud cakes from it. She didn't have the luxury to let her mind wander down that path. She could already feel her body starting to react to the man lying next to her.

Logan shifted and slid down from the hood, testing the ground carefully.

"I think… Yeah. We can continue…" He shouted from the edge of the rocks, stomping the sand with his foot. Marie cleared her throat.

"Good. It's about time." Sun was already setting. And in the night, after dark, bandits would start prowling around, looking for stranded travelers.

_Once loved_

Marie barely had the time to hop down from the cab of the truck when door of the cabin flew open and Sam stormed out. He took in her appearance and bounced on Logan who was wringing his still soaked shirt dry.

"What the fuck did you do to her now? Huh! Didn't get enough last time?" His fist connected to Logan's jaw and made Logan stumble backwards and hit his head to the side of the truck. Sharp metallic thud made Marie wince. Logan shrugged his shoulders and twisted his neck before throwing the shirt on the hood of the truck.

"In case you didn't notice, it rained. We got stuck. That's all that happened. Get lost squirt. I have a job to do," he growled instead of tearing in to Sam with his claws.

"Mom?" Sam asked.

"Nothing happened. Go to sleep. I'll help Logan to mount that pulse cannon. We'll talk about this on the morning…" She could see Sam's nostrils flaring.

"Since when have I lied to you?" Sam snorted, threw his hands in the air and turned around.

"Fine. I'm just trying to look after you. Don't come crying home if…" Thankfully he didn't finish his sentence, but marched in to the cabin instead, slamming the door shut.

Logan was already opening the backboard and tarp that were covering the lorry. Small trickle of blood oozed from the hairline, down to his neck and back.

"You're hurt!"

"It's nothing. Don't fret over it. Let's just get this over with…" Logan grunted handing her bags filled with coffee, soap and other luxuries before climbing on the lorry and dragging the crate that held the pulse cannon closer to the edge.

"I'll go and put these away…" Marie huffed, balancing the bags on her arms. Logan nodded.

She arranged her purchases to the cupboards and cabinets. There were surprisingly many packages. She was quite sure she had bought only two bars of soap instead of four. Only one kilo of coffee instead of one and a half. Then she found something that she was sure of she hadn't bought. A small bottle of golden liquid. She didn't have to open it. She knew what it was. Of what it would smell like.

"Logan?" He was crouching on the hood of the truck, reaching to the roof of the cab.

"I think it work better if I put it up here instead of the hood. Gives wider range that way…"

"Logan?"

"I'll hook this up with the radar and see if I can upload a better program to it, I don't think it's…"

"Logan?"

"What?" He barked, turning finally to look at her. She stood beside the truck, small bottle of honey and beeswax on her palm.

"I think you mixed up our purchases."

"No. It's for you. Don't really need that stuff with the healing…" Logan said, turning back to tighten the bolts at the base of the pulse cannon.

"What is this?" She asked, placing the bottle carefully to the front porch of the cabin. Logan hopped down from the hood of the truck wiping his hands clean to his shirt that he had discarded earlier.

"What's what?" He asked, cocking his brow.

"You just suddenly appear out of nowhere. Fix my truck. Try to help out with Sam. Buy me stuff. What are you up to?" Marie asked, draping her hands over her chest and tilting her head.

"Uh… Nothing? I just wanted… You looked like you could use some help, that's all."

"Right. And you're the kind of guy who walks around helping people just out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Marie… Don't. I just wanted to help you. I owe you."

"Oh, God. I'm going to be sick! You can't possibly imagine that all this will erase the fact that you raped me!" She shouted. Mortified look spread on Logan's face.

"There's absolutely no way to repay, or undo things that happened back then! This isn't about the stuff that happened at the breeding center!"

"Then what is this? Tell me! I need to know!"

"You loved me once. Do you have any idea how it made me feel? To see that look in your eyes? To feel something and find out that you felt the same? This isn't… It isn't even close of what you deserve, but this is something I can do, something I can give."

She had absolutely now idea how to respond to Logan's honesty. She turned her back and walked back to the cabin with numb legs. Returned back out and retrieved the bottle of honey and beeswax before going back inside again. She walked in to her bedroom, and placed the bottle to the small table next to her bed. Giggle escaped from her lips when she realized that she would have to build a bathtub so that she could enjoy that little gift properly. That giggle transformed to a series of sobs.

She could hear Sam walking around. Closet doors opening and closing. Soft rustle of cloth. More walking. More rummaging. Then silence. She opened the door of her room and saw Sam, sitting in the kitchen. There was backpack on the floor at his feet.

"I'm leaving before weather gets too rough. I left you some money, and I'll arrange so that somebody comes and helps you out every now and then."

"Sam…"

"I'm fed up. Tired of this shit you call a life. I'm going." With that he rose, took the backpack and walked out. She walked to the window. Saw Sam talking with Logan. Logan was shaking his head. Sam was talking again. Finally Logan nodded. Both men climbed to Logan's truck, and it drove away in to the night, leaving her standing alone in the darkness.

_A Deal_

She didn't sleep that night. Instead she lay awake on her bed, planning what to do tomorrow. There was so much that had to be done. Only so many hours in a day, and now that she was alone, she would really have to organize all tasks carefully so that she got them done. Garden didn't need watering, thank God for small mercies. But weeds would try to take over it now. There was a huge pile of dirty clothes waiting for washing up. Roof of the cabin was leaking. She had noticed a dark, moist patch on the kitchen ceiling. There was a huge pile of leathers and pelts left at the storage, enough to keep her occupied next winter, but she would need to take care of those. Moist summer air did all kinds of damage to them if she wasn't careful and aired them out every now and then. She would have to hunt for meat and make jerky. And it looked like at least one more trip to settlement was in order. She didn't have any nails left to fix the roof. When morning sun greeted her through the window, she finally fell asleep out of pure exhaustion. For one minute she was wide awake, next she was dead to the world.

She woke up several hours later, to an uneasy feeling of being watched. She blinked her eyes several times and strained her hearing before finally sitting up. Small surprised gasp left her lips when she saw Logan, sitting at the doorstep of her room, back leaned against the doorframe, and feet propped up to the opposite side of it, half hooded gaze fixed upon her.

"Morning…" He muttered.

"What… What are you still doing here? The truck is finished. Isn't it?" Marie whispered, dragging the quilt tighter around her. Logan yawned.

"Yeah. It's done. Just came to tell you that I gave Sam a ride to the settlement."

"When did you get back?" How long had he been sitting there?

"Couple of hours ago. You were sleeping. Didn't want to wake you." Logan yawned again and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm kind of tired. Do you mind if I sleep for a while before I leave?" He asked.

"In my truck, of course," he added hastily when Marie didn't answer right away.

"No. I mean no, I don't mind… Are you hungry?" She asked. After all he had slaved his ass off with her truck even when Sam kept bitching and hitting him. Logan scratched his stubbled jaw and stood up slowly.

"More tired than anything else. But I guess I could eat…"

She eyed her handiwork with doubtful gaze. Homemade bread, thick soup made of mashed vegetables and dried meat and some dried berries and nuts for dessert. Well, it had to do. It was the best she could whip up right now. She set the table for two, sudden pang of sadness clouding her mind when she realized this would be probably the last time there was somebody else eating with her. She pushed that feeling back. She wasn't going to turn to a blubbering and sobbing little girl in front of Logan.

"Better go and get him…" It had taken her two hours to make the meal.

"Oh…" Logan's truck was a mess. It hadn't been pretty earlier, but now it was so banged up that one hardly could call it a vehicle. It looked like it had taken a trip through hell. Literally. There were dents and holes in the armoring. One machinegun and flamethrower were missing. Searchlight that had been mounted in front of it was broken. It was covered with dust and scrapes. Driver's side door was decorated with a series of small holes and window was broken. There were dents and jagged tears on the sleeve that covered the tires from the attacks from the sides.

"Logan!" She called him. Soft grunt, little shuffling and his head emerged to the broken window.

"Dinner's ready… Or it's more like a supper, I guess…"

"Fine. I'm coming…" He grunted, opened the door and staggered out little groggily, squinting his eyes against the brightness of the sun.

"What the hell happened? Is Sam…"

"Sam's okay. Got in to trouble with bandits when I was returning from the settlement." She walked to the truck and reached for the door that Logan was closing. She opened it.

Holes on the door went through it. Cab was splattered with blood, and there were small jagged tears on every surface. Logan slammed the door closed.

"How bad?" Marie asked. Now his exhausted state made perfectly sense to her.

"It was nothing…"

"How bad?"

"Marie…"

"How bad were you hurt? And what the hell did they use?" Logan had armored her truck with same plates he had used to armor his.

"You don't have to worry about them anymore. I took care of them. I doubt anybody else has same shit that they used…" Logan said.

"What do you mean?" Marie asked.

"They were mutants. Old Destroyers. One of them had a machinegun mounted to his shoulder, and some leftover armor piercing ammunition. But I took care of them. You don't have to worry about them." She could only stare at the truck numbly. When she had been pondering over weather to fix a leaking roof, or maybe take care of the garden first, Logan had been driving around, cleaning out possible threats and gotten hurt. Gentle nudge against her shoulder brought her out from her stupor.

"You were talking something about food? I'm kind of hungry…" Logan said.

She scooped generous amount of soup for him, trying to stop her hands trembling. She was shivering so hard that Logan took the kettle and the spoon from her.

"Sit down." She sat on her seat and watched when Logan poured rest of the soup to her bowl and placed the kettle to the sink.

"Eat." She lifted her spoon mechanically, down to the bowl, up to her lips, down, up, down, up… Barely tasting what she was eating. Logan ate quietly, finishing the soup and wiping the bowl clean with a piece of bread.

"Like I said, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore. At least not for a while. I took care of those bandits. New ones will be coming, but at least for a while the road should be safe." She didn't answer, just kept trembling.

"Did you hear? It's safe," Logan said.

"I'm not afraid of those fucking bandits!" She screamed, closing her eyes and squeezing her temples.

"I'm afraid of myself…"

"You are not all right, are you?" Logan asked, observing her with critical eyes over the table.

"Yes… No… I don't know anymore. I was all right. Then you showed up."

"Sorry." She could hear from his voice he was being honest.

"I'm not afraid of you. I don't hate you. But it was safer to think that way. I would have gone nuts all by myself if I didn't have a good reason to not to go back and search for you. It was easier to believe that you hurt me too bad. I have tried to believe it even now, but it isn't fucking working! Now Sam's gone, you're leaving, and I'm alone again!"

"What the fuck is keeping you here? Move in to settlement, or come with me," Logan said.

"I already fought this over with Sam, thousands of times! I'm not going to abandon my life in here just to move to some crummy little hut… With you?"

"We are not built to be alone. No matter what happened, we both need some human company. You'll go nuts if you stay out here alone. I'll help you move over to settlement, find you a nice place to live from there, or you can pack up your stuff and come with me. Deal is still on…"

"Stay with you… Talk with you…"

"And I'll keep you fed and clothed."

"What happened to 'safe'?" She asked.

"I think you got it covered by yourself. So, how about it? Which is it going to be?"

She looked around in her tiny cabin, taking in every detail, breathing deeply. She wasn't sure of what to say. Of what would come out when she opened her mouth. She closed her eyes and swallowed.

"I think… I think I'll take that deal."


	4. On The Road

_On the road_

Caravan moved slowly over scorching sand. It was hard to believe that parched up scenery had been sinking, slippery mud just few weeks ago. Now the surface of the road was dry and cracked, and heavy trucks created a formidable dust cloud around them.

He gazed his passenger and slight smile tugged the corner of his mouth. Marie was sleeping, curled to the passenger's seat. This was her truck. They had taken all the parts they could salvage from the wreck of his truck and left it behind. They were better off riding together, and Marie's truck had been far better condition than his. It had taken a week to catch up with the caravan. Marie had been driving during days, Logan had taken the wheel when sun set. It was safer during the daytime, not so many bandits dared to try to attack in plain sight. During few brief stops they had made Logan had installed weapons he had stripped from his truck, and now Marie's truck posed a formidable threat to anything imaginable, armed with two pulse cannons, two machineguns and five flamethrowers.

Marie was slowly mastering the firepower, but it was her skills in driving that Logan admired the most. She handled the truck with ease born from several years of experience. It was hard to believe she had been insecure and stumbling kid when he had first laid his eyes on her. Now she attended the daily chores and responded to friendly banter from their travel buddies with her own sharp remarks, keeping them on their toes.

Their relationship was a constant source of guessing and rumors among the caravan. They traveled together and shared a room when caravan stopped to settlement. When they were on the road, they both slept in the truck. Both were more than possessive about each other, yet there seemed to be no bigger connection between them. They were buddies.

Slight change in Marie's scent alerted him from his thoughts. He shifted on his seat and opened the window. Air conditioning wasn't efficient enough to sweep out the unmistakable trace of her arousal. It was kind of awkward.

It had started couple of days ago, when they caught up with the caravan. He had been driving. Stench of dust and fuel had clogged up his nostrils, but suddenly a new scent had broken through. A new, yet something he remembered from the past. Salty musk tinged with vanilla and peppermint. She had been moaning slightly in her sleep, and Logan had opted to wake her up.

"Looked like you were having a nightmare…" He lied through his teeth when Marie had asked why had he woken her up. Next night it had happened again.

It started to affect him. Twenty years he had spent in relatively solitude, in celibate for the fear of what would happen if he allowed himself to feel anything remotely sexual hadn't been a struggle, but now he had to restrain himself from testing what would happen if he let go. Dust that coated his sinuses wasn't thick enough to filter off her scent, and wind had died. Air was standing still. Caravan was practically crawling along, so the breeze created by movement was only marginal.

"Thank God…" Logan groaned when first faint traces of light crept over the horizon. Time to wake her up and get some sleep. During the day caravan would pick up the speed. Hopefully they would be at the settlement before evening. This time he wasn't as sure as hell to book only a one room for himself and Marie. No. Two rooms. Maybe she would take the hint and make a move to the guy she was lusting after. Had to be somebody from the caravan. After that he could go and gut the guy for touching her. Or maybe not. She had the right to choose.

"Wake up." He shook her little more gruffly than he first intended to. She came out of her dream with a startled gasp.

"What is it?" She asked, head swiveling from side to side, taking in the scenery around them.

"Your turn to drive," Logan grunted.

"Can we stop for a while? I need to stretch my legs…" Marie muttered yawning.

"Just for couple of minutes."

He watched her from the corner of his eye, feigning to sleep. She had popped briefly behind the truck, probably to pee. Now she was walking, stretching her back and legs. She stopped and bent over from her waist, grabbing her ankles, and he could hear soft growl coming from her. She wasn't used to sit still day after day. It showed.

"Drag your ass back in! We have to catch up with the caravan!" Logan shouted through the open window. Marie stuck her tongue out and eyed the driver's seat with distaste. It would be still warm. Leather would be soft and sticky. She could feel the heat from his palms under hers, soaked to the steering wheel. In a weird way it reminded her of like they were using the same toothbrush, or something.

"I'll ask them to pick up the pace a bit. I want to sleep in a real bed for a change…" Logan muttered, picking up the microphone and clicking the tangent twice, to alert other vehicles in the caravan.

"This is Wolverine calling. Step on it. Rogue's getting tired of sucking your exhaust. So am I," he growled.

"Copy that, Wolverine. Move to the front," answer came through. They both glared at the receiver.

"And leave your tail unguarded? Don't think so. Pick up the pace," Logan answered.

"Copy that."

"Copy my ass…" Logan muttered, cut the connection and placed the microphone carefully back on its cradle, resisting the urge to rip it off and throw out.

"Fucking sheep… What do you say if we ditch them after the next fight?" He asked from Marie. She threw a surprised glance towards him.

"Not for good. Just take a couple of days vacation," he hurriedly explained.

"Is this one of those moments you need to be alone?" Marie asked.

"Yeah. Can take this shit no more for some reason. Usually takes much longer to get this fed up…"

"I could hitch a ride from Scott. Would that help?" Marie proposed. Scott was driving one of the transporters. He was the handyman of the fight crew. Kept everything working. Logan threw a sharp, sidelong glance towards Marie. Scott? Scott? Was it him?

"I guess you could. But it's not you that's bothering me. Feels like these people are getting dumber after every day."

"Well, if you don't mind, I would rather stick with you than ask a ride from those morons. I have seen how couple of them keep eyeing me. Gives me the creeps…" Marie said, slight shiver running over her frame.

"I have seen it, too. Don't worry about it, they know better than to hassle with you…"

Logan knew it for sure. From the moment she had appeared, escorted by him, she had been marked. Property of Wolverine. It was ridiculous if you thought about it. During all these years he had been tagging along with these people, there hadn't been any rumors. Not hushed jokes or meaningful slaps to the back after a long night in a bar, or after a fight when groupies cornered them. Nobody even expected him to take part of the raunchy parties or even orgies the crew was infamous of. He was the Wolverine, big and mean machine with blood on his hands and yet he lived like a monk, but as soon as people had set their eyes on Marie standing next to him he had seen the shift in their minds. From Buddhist monk to master of his slave. He didn't mind as long as it kept her safe, but rumors were getting louder after every day, and it was harder to keep Marie from hearing them. She wouldn't be too pleased when she found out why people kept their distance.

Waking up 

Marie groaned and stepped down from the truck. Logan mimicked her move on the other side of the cab, rubbing his eyes little groggily. He had been sleeping while Marie drove, and sudden switch from the relatively silence of the caravan to the marketplace of the settlement threw him a bit off-stride.

"Okay. I'll go and book us rooms. Why don't you go and get something to eat…" Logan started, pointing at the Inn he had spotted.

"Nope. I'm not hungry. I just want to go to sleep…" Marie muttered and slouched after him. He still had that skill to part the crowd in front of him by just walking through. It was easier to trail after him than try to push through by herself.

"Thank God I'm not on duty tonight…" She groaned leaning heavily against Logan's side while he was paying for the owner of the Inn. Crew took turns in setting up the cage. She had been working on it in the last place they had stopped by, side by side with Logan and few other members of the crew. It had been hard work, and she had gotten to bed only after every detail was ready. Sun had been rising when she had staggered with Logan to the room they had shared. They had slept the whole day, waking when Scott had knocked on the door and informed that fight would start within an hour.

"Here." She stared dumbly at the key Logan handed to her.

"You're not coming?" She asked puzzled. Logan jiggled a key of his own.

"Got two rooms."

"Can we afford it?" Marie asked, instantly calculating how much an extra room would cost.

"Yeah. We can. Go to sleep. I'll go and see if they need any help at the cage. Might take a while so I thought it would be a good idea to get you your own room. Won't wake you up when I come back," Logan said. He could see disappointment on Marie's face.

"Okay… I'll see you in the morning…" She said, turning and taking the stairs with her head bowed. Every move reluctant and sluggish.

"Marie?" She turned to look at him.

"Good night. Wake me up to the breakfast, okay?" She nodded.

Technically it wasn't his turn, but the crew didn't object when he strolled to where they had parked the trucks. Parts of the cage had already been unloaded, but the hardest task was still waiting, getting heavy poles and walls up to a sturdy enough structure. It wouldn't do to have the cage collapse in the middle of a fight. He pushed all the restless energy that had been coiling slowly inside of him to the work, holding up the walls, pounding the support beams deep in to the ground and welding seams. He was going to drive all his frustrations and fears to the metal structure of the cage.

When morning came, and last part of the cage, the massive gate slid in place, the whole crew sighed from relief. Logan's angry relentless pace had forced everybody else to bust their backs, too. Logan just shrugged and lighted a cigar, staggering back to the settlement. It would be a small miracle if Marie managed to get him awake enough to eat after he settled to the bed.

He rose the stairs slowly. He could practically feel the soft bed under his back already. Seats in the truck were okay if you tilted them backwards, but right now his muscles and joints were screaming for the release only a good long rest in a real bed could offer. He stopped briefly in front of Marie's room. He could hear her steady breathing through the door. Still fast asleep. Good. With any luck she would be out couple of hours more.

Room was small, but it held all the necessities, and he even had his own bathroom. Quick shower to wash off the desert dust and grease that coated his skin. By the time he had toweled himself dry and sat on the edge of the bed his back was singing hallelujah, and seven dwarves had put up a mine inside of his skull. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He woke up to a strange feeling. He was warm and relaxed, and something or somebody was stroking his hair.

"What the fuck…" He sprung to action and had the intruder pinned under him against the mattress before he realized whom it was.

"Marie?"

"I… Uh, I came to get you to breakfast. You didn't answer when I knocked, so I came to see if you were back…" She was stuttering, eyes darting between his chest and the sheet that only partially covered him from the waist down.

"I locked the door. I'm sure I locked it."

"My key fit in. Sorry… I just wanted to see if you were back already and if you were hungry… Could you let me go?" Marie's question snapped Logan out of the partial haze and he released the grip he had from her. She stumbled off from the bed instantly. Yet he couldn't detect fear in her scent. Just surprise.

"Sorry about that. I'm not used to waking up like that," he said, sitting on the side of the bed, checking that the sheet provided adequate shelter from her gaze. She turned to leave.

"Wait. I'll get dressed. Might as well go and get something to eat since I'm awake…" Logan grunted, grabbing his clothes and retreating to bathroom to get dressed.

He wasn't shy, and they had both seen each other naked on several occasions. Hell, they had fucked with each other. Somehow it still didn't feel right to flash in front of her naked.

Rest of the crew had already occupied the small tavern downstairs, and waitresses were scurrying around, carrying ale, bread and porridge. They found a tiny table from under a window, probably meant for one person only. It had to do. Logan wasn't going to stand around and wait for something bigger. He wanted to get something to eat. Sooner he got over the breakfast, the sooner he could crawl back to bed. Waitress came and plunked two bowls on the table, filled with steaming pile of thick looking porridge. He wasn't a porridge-man per say, but right now he was tired and hungry enough to eat anything even remotely edible. A basket filled with bread was shoved between their bowls. They both looked at the waitress expectantly. Woman's eyes were darting between the bowls and the basket, trying to find two more empty spots. Finding none she sighed.

"You want something to drink?" She asked, offering them two pints of ale from the tray she was carrying. They took the pints. There really was no room for them on the table. Eating was little awkward juggling between the pints, porridge and bread, but finally they both could just lean back, task finished.

"So… What were you planning to do?" Logan asked, lighting a cigar. Marie's gaze wandered over the sea of customers, not really looking for anything, yet taking in every detail from her surroundings.

"I don't know. Maybe do some shopping. I need some new clothes, and better shoes. Do you think they have a bookstore in here?" She asked.

"Too small place for something like that. But I saw a general store earlier. They might sell books. Getting bored?" Logan asked, not really caring about the possible answer. Food had been surprisingly tasty, cigar was good, and there was a warm and a soft bed with his name on it waiting upstairs. All in all, life was good.

"Not really bored… Or maybe a little. I don't know. I'm not sure about anything anymore. And I miss Sam."

"Don't worry about him. He's in good hands…" Logan said.

"What do you mean? I thought you left him…"

"You thought I would left my son alone, without money or friends, without anything or anybody to lean on? Give me some credit, Marie… I'm an asshole, but not a fucking asshole…"

"But I thought you took him to the settlement so that he could get recruited to the Army…"

"No. Hooked him up with a caravan. Fifteen trucks, transporting spices, canvases, flour… Stuff like that. They were short of one transporter."

"And he settled for that?" Marie asked. Logan nodded.

"We had time to talk during the ride to the settlement. Told him about my life. I think halfway through my speech he actually started to listen. After the part when I mentioned you. He looked a bit green around the gills when I left him, but I don't think he dreams of being a soldier anymore."

"Oh…"

"Yeah. Well, have a nice day. I have an appointment with mister Sandman…"

Dark clouds gathering 

Sharp knock on the door woke him up. Sun was still up. So it was safe to assume he hadn't slept that long. Perfectly okay to act pissed off. He opened the door with an angry grimace plastered over his face.

"What the fuck do you creep want?" Stephen, one of the transporters took few hasty steps backwards. Wolverine was well known of his bad temper.

"It's Rogue."

"Huh?" Anger turned to worry. She was a big girl now. Big enough to take care of herself. Had to be something bad when they sought him out.

"They came out of nowhere… I didn't think there was any of those left…" Stephen was babbling while Logan threw some clothes on. Now he could smell the scent of Marie's blood on Stephen.

"There are some left. But I thought they had trained them better, not to attack on muties anymore…" Logan muttered, grabbing the keys to his room.

"Take me there."

She had been trying on new shoes, when suddenly two Hunters had attacked out of nowhere. Luckily the owner of the small store had managed to kill both of them, but nevertheless she was badly injured. Her right ankle and left wrist were broken, skin torn and muscles underneath minced to an ugly mess along with cartilage and tendons.

"Rogue?" She was barely conscious, but upon hearing Logan's voice she opened her eyes and forced a smile on her lips.

"Hi. Found some old friends…"

"So I see. What did you do? Poked them with a stick?" Logan asked, gathering her to his arms as gently as possible. She winced a bit.

"Did nothing… They just bounced on me… You know I'm a smart girl…" She whispered, slapping his shoulder with her good hand. Sharp glint of metal captured his attention. A ring. Smooth, silver grey band on her index finger. He recognized the material immediately. It surprised him that she hadn't made the connection herself.

"Told you before that I don't want to see this shit on you. They were tracking this!" He snarled, tearing off the ring and keeping it up close her face so that she could see. Marie wrinkled her forehead and tried to grab it. Logan pocketed the ring.

"Nope. You're not getting it back. First we get you fixed up, then I'm going to get rid of it."

"It was a present…" Marie whispered, tears gleaming in her eyes.

"Doesn't matter. It'll draw every fucking Hunter after you. It's same kind of ring you had earlier. Made out of old suppression collar."

"Sam gave it to me…"

"Doesn't fucking matter! You're not keeping it, and that's final!"

Something blue and hungry flashed behind Marie's eyes. Suddenly his hands against her skin felt stiff and frozen. He couldn't let go of her. He could see veins bulging under the skin, color fading. It was getting hard to breathe. That coldness crept along his arms, settling inside of his ribcage, grasping his heart and lungs with vice-like grip. He could see damages on Marie's ankle and wrist healing rapidly. She was draining him, using his mutation. He tried to crawl away from her, but she held on him tightly.

"Rogue! Let go!" He snarled through gritted teeth. She didn't answer. He tried feebly to kick her, but she dodged his haphazard attempt easily, leeching his power and life. Darkness was approaching rapidly. He could hear people around them whispering.

"Marie… Please, let me go…" He didn't have any strength left, just that desperate plea. And it was enough. Just before he fell unconscious he could feel the connection breaking.

Rocking motion and steady purr of an engine woke him up. He was in the truck. It was night. Marie was driving. He could smell she had been crying earlier. Now something close to fear was wafting around her, thick cloud of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Kid?" He muttered, sitting up carefully and wincing against sickening sweet whine and buzz inside of his head.

"They weren't exactly thrilled of the way I healed. Told me to get lost. You agreed, wanted to come with me. I took the truck and some supplies."

"I agreed?" He asked puzzled. Had he really been able to voice his opinion? Marie looked at him and tapped her temple.

"I had you inside of my head. You made it very clear that I was to take you with me."

"Had?"

"People stay in my head only as long as they are unconscious."

"You finally figured out your mutation, and first thing you do is to turn it against me?"

"Sorry. Wasn't thinking very clearly…"

"Well, just don't do it again. Hurt like a bitch…"

"Where are we going?" He asked. Marie was still driving. He was rubbing his forearms. Skin on there felt tight and ticklish. Like a sunburn. He could feel palm shaped scars under his fingers. Probably a permanent feat, since they hadn't healed up yet. Well, fair was fair. He had scarred her all those years ago; it was her right to repay the favor.

"You wanted to go back to the bunker. I guess you got little confused. I managed to talk you out of it. I have been driving and waiting for you to wake up. Do you have some place in your mind?"

"No. Don't really have anything left. Anything except… No."

"We could go to my place. I never sold it, and I doubt anybody has dared to move in there. No one in their right mind would want to live in a mutie hive."

At home 

"Mutie hive…" Logan muttered, pulling to the front yard of the cabin. Marie was sleeping next to him. Splatter of rain against the windows was strangely comforting even when he had spent last couple of hours cursing and weaving the truck through mud and quicksand.

"Marie? We're here. Wake up," he said and shook the sleeping woman gently. She had fallen asleep half an hour ago, and hadn't entered to deep sleep yet. Thank God for small mercies. What ever, or more likely who ever it was she was dreaming of must have made quite an impression to her at some point. More than once he had caught her masturbating in her sleep during their ride to the cabin. At least it had proven him one thing. There was nothing wrong with his plumbing. Sight of Marie, squirming and writhing on her seat, dead to the world, had caused him an erection several times. It was kind of hard to hide in the narrow confines of the truck's cab. Usually he just stopped the truck and walked outside until he could will it away before waking up Marie so that she could drive.

"Are we home?" Marie asked, sitting up and squinting her eyes, trying to see through the rain and darkness.

"Yeah. You are. You really don't mind if I bunk in here for a while?" Logan asked, still not believing she had meant that he should move in with her.

"Stay as long as you like. It's the least I can do after what I did." She reached for his hand, and he resisted the urge to retreat from her touch. Her fingers skimmed scarred flesh lightly, causing a shiver run down his spine.

"I'm sorry…" Marie whispered, letting go of him.

"Don't. I kind of like them." It was true. Somehow he felt more whole now, matching set of her palm prints decorating the skin of his arms.

"You shouldn't," Marie said, turning and reaching for her bag, from under the seat. Movement bared generous amount of bare skin when her shirt hitched upwards. Small, white patch of old scar tissue on her lower back glowed in the darkness. Suddenly he had the urge to nuzzle it. Lick it. Taste her skin once again.

"I think I'll have a cigar…" He muttered, shifting on his seat, practically salivating from the sight of that small patch of skin.

"You can smoke in the cabin, I don't mind," Marie said, opening the door of the cab.

"I'm just fine in here…" Logan grunted forcing himself to stay put when Marie hopped down and sprinted to the cabin under the pouring rain.

Cigar really wasn't what he craved, so he settled just to chew on it instead of smoking. Cracked his knuckles and listened the steady drum of rain. Hellish two-week period in the close proximity of Marie was finally over. He was quite sure that he could let his guard down. Loosen up a bit. Now that there were more space, and no other people around, it would be easier. Had to be easier. Because if it wasn't, that left him only one option: To leave. For good this time.

Sharp knock on the window pulled him from his thoughts. Marie stood outside, drenched through.

"Are you planning to stay out here all night? I would like to go back to sleep, but I have to lock the door first," he could hear her shout over the rain.

"I'm coming…" He grunted, took his bag and followed her inside.

There was slightly mouldy smell floating in the air. Water was dripping from the kitchen ceiling.

"We can't stay here for long. You'll get sick."

"But this is my home…" Marie started, but fell silent when he unsheathed his claws and took a step away from him. He plunged them through the wet spot on the floor, shattering wood before letting them slide back in.

"It's decayed. And there's mold. Not a good combination to your health," He said, picking up a splinter and showing it to her.

"Shit. Fucking unbelievable. Can't I just… What if I just replaced the floorboards with new ones?" Marie asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Won't work. You won't get rid of mold that way. Better just burn this place and build a new one."

"I don't think I can do that. There's so much life, so many memories in this house… My whole life…"

"Your life will end here; within a year if you're lucky. I have seen what this stuff does to people. Eats up their brain and lungs. I have seen them suffering years, turning slowly to babbling idiots who can't even breathe on their own. If you can't do it, I will."

"Just because it's easy for you to cut ties when things get difficult, doesn't mean that it's easy for me! This is the only place, the only thing I have left from Sam! You can't expect me just to torch it like it was nothing!"

"Sam has fucking nothing to do with this! And do you really think he would want you to stay here, keep living in this filth and get sick over it?"

Just moments ago he had been pondering how to keep his paws off from Marie. Now he picked her up from the back of her shirt and carried her out from the cabin, taking their bags with them.

"We're going to the settlement. I'll book us a room from the Inn. Tomorrow I'll find you a place to stay, and come back here. I'll burn this place and build you a new house."

"Let me go! Logan, let me go!" Marie was screaming and trashing in his grip, trying to squirm loose. Finally he gave up and dropped her to the ground, face down to the mud, and turned to throw their bags to the truck. Something wet and sticky splashed to the back of his head. He scraped it off; texture revealing him it was mud. Another sticky lump connected to his backside, right between his shoulder blades.

"Marie…"

"I'm fucking tired of this! As soon as it looks like that it's time to settle down, something happens and I have to leave again! I'm not built like you! I want… I need something permanent! Something tangible! Something I can touch and say this is mine!" Marie shouted, lobbing yet another mud ball to his direction. Logan dodged it lunging towards her and grasping her from the front of her shirt, pulling her face to face with him.

"You think I enjoy emptiness? You think it's a good life for me? When there's nothing to expect, nothing to keep me in place? Absolutely nothing, no reason to keep going? I had a life, once. With you. I screwed it up. I'm trying to take care that at least you could have something…" His voice faltered when Marie clasped her hands to his cheeks.

"Why the hell this has to be so hard?" She whispered, leaning closer and brushing his lips with her own.

"Marie?" His voice was trembling. A question. A plea. She closed her eyes and pressed against him more firmly, tangling her hands to his wet hair and pulling him to another kiss.

He stumbled backwards, pulling her with him, reluctant to break the kiss. Finally he felt the truck behind his back and leaned against it. He needed the support. His body wasn't cooperating. He couldn't breathe and his legs felt strangely numb. His heart was working overtime; he could feel it pounding in his ears. There was mud and rain. There was Marie. Warm, alive, pressing against him and thrusting her tongue in his mouth, tasting him. Willing to share this with him.

"To hell with the mold…" He whispered when Marie wrapped her legs around his waist. At least cabin would be warm. There would be a real bed.

"Are you sure about this?" Marie nodded to his whispered question when he lowered her gently to her bed.

"It's time. It's time to stop hurting. Time to stop being afraid." Yet he couldn't make himself move to the bed before she took his hand and pulled him next to her.

"Just… If it's too much, tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, and I'll stop…"

"Shut up, Logan…" She silenced him by kissing him again, hungry mouth devouring his.

"I don't want you to stop…"

Memories 

"I think I'm going to be sick…"

It had been perfect. Tender, loving and passionate. Everything they both had craved for nearly two decades. Just two of them, becoming one feeling creature, amalgam of sweat slicked skin, heat and hushed whispers. Soft caresses, small moans and gasps. Both of them relaxed, exhausted, but immensely satisfied afterwards. They had fallen asleep, still joined together, cradling each other.

Dream had taken him by surprise. Strapped down to a cool metal table, surrounded by inky darkness. Blinking lights closing in from above. Low hum echoing in his ears, steady, relentless pull tugging in his lower abdomen. Voices around him. Pen on paper. Men talking about the procedure.

"We could increase the power. Test the full capacity of sperm production…"

He had flown away from the bed, his gut-wrenching scream waking Marie. Now he was sitting naked on the floor, rocking back and forth, trying to calm down. He couldn't close his eyes. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't make his limbs obey. His thighs and abdomen were cramping. Sweat was pouring from him in sheets.

"Logan, it's alright…" Marie draped a blanket over his shoulders and tried to help him back to bed.

"No…"

"Come back to bed. It's all right. Everything's alright…"

"I think I'm going to be sick…" He crawled across the floor on his hands and knees, blanket flapping around him. He made it to the front porch. Bile rose to the back of his throat, but he didn't dare to let it out. Internal cramps forced him to curl on his side. Cool night air, fresh from the rain, felt heavenly in his lungs. He tried to breathe deeply. To make his body obey.

"Logan?" Marie was standing at the doorstep. Too far away. He reached towards her.

"Come here…" She crouched next to him. He grabbed her and buried his head to her lap. Her scent surrounded him. Sound of her heartbeat vanquished the last remainder of his dream, the hum of the machine. Her hands rubbed his stomach, loosening the knotted muscles.

"Christ…" Tears he had held back for years spilled over, making him hide his face deeper to her lap, nearly crushing her in the circle of his arms.

"Are you really okay with this?" Logan asked with a thick voice when Marie helped him back inside.

"Yes. We both need this. I have missed this."

"I can go, you know. Just tell me if you don't want me to stay…"

"Logan, come back to bed. It's cold."

"I can go. I can. But can I stay this one night? I… Just one night…" Marie pushed him to the bed and crawled under the blanket next to him.

"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay with me."

"How long?"

"As long as you want. Calm down, Logan. It was just a nightmare."

"Can I hold you?"

"Yes. Wait, no. Not like this…" She felt sudden surge of fear when Logan tried to spoon with her. She was already better, but she wasn't yet able to trust herself not to bolt from the feel of Logan draped over her back. She turned around, cuddling against Logan's chest, his trembling hands cradling her to him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't stop it. I tried, but I was so fucking scared…"

"It's okay, Logan."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Go back to sleep."

Taking care of her 

"How were you planning to do it?" Marie asked. They were sitting in the kitchen. Logan had patched up the hole on the floor and they were drinking coffee.

"How? Just wait until this place is dry enough and burn it down. It'll take couple of months to build a new one. You can live at the settlement until I get it finished."

"But I don't have enough money… You do realize you can't make everything by yourself? There's stuff you have to buy…"

"I have money. You don't have to worry about it." He had considerable amount of credits stashed away. Twenty years of living alone, fighting and using the traits he learned in the Army had paid well. Up until now there really had been no reason to spend it.

"I don't want it. I don't want to go back there, when I had nothing. I don't want to be in debt for you."

"It's not a loan. I would say it's an investment for my future. Shit… I didn't want to talk about this…" Logan huffed and stood up, started pacing.

"You're not immortal, Marie. Eventually you grow old and die. That's… I can't follow you there. I want to keep you here with me as long as I can…" Her hand paused in mid-air, steaming cup of coffee just inches from her lips.

"That means I have to take care of you. Make sure you stay healthy. I'm not going to loose you to some fucking fungus. Or anything else as trivial, for that matter. You're the only thing I have left."

"Marie!"

"Fuck you, Logan!" He slumped to the floor, leaning his back against the door. Tore off soaked, coffee-scented shirt and threw it away.

"Come on. I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm not talking to you!" He let his head fall against the wooden surface behind him and closed his eyes. It had been something that had been on his mind for quite some time now. She would grow old and die. There was no way around that fact. He had tucked it away, something to discuss with her later. Much, much later. It had come out too soon. And all wrong. She had thrown him with what had been left of her coffee and locked herself to her bedroom.

She obviously wasn't comfortable with the subject. He wasn't comfortable with the subject. But it was something inevitable. Cycle of life. Her growing old didn't bother him a bit. Why the fuck should he care. It was the dying part that rankled him. Made him want to pop his claws and growl a threat. Right. Like it would make any difference.

"Open this door, Marie. I need to talk with you."

"Fuck off! I'm not in the mood to talk with you." He sighed and twisted the doorknob. It refused to budge. He leaned against the door. Once he had known a girl who could phase through walls. He would have given anything to trade his mutation with hers right now. Of course it wasn't possible. She was dead. Had been dead for decades.

"We really need to talk."

"So? Talk. But don't expect me to listen!" Marie shouted.

"Fuck this," he grunted and eyed the door, unsheathing his claws. They cut through the wood effortlessly, severing the locking mechanism.

She came in low, raining hard punches to his stomach and sides. Logan grunted, nearly toppling over but managed to grab her wrists and forced her backwards, against the wall.

"Either finish me off now, or let me take care of you…" He growled, face only inches from hers. Blue fire was swirling in her eyes.

"Here. I'll make it easy for you…" He muttered, pinning her to the wall with his hip, pulling her both hands down to his chest, palms flat against his skin.

"What are you waiting for? Just do it."

"Didn't think so…" He snorted and let go of her hands. Sudden cold draining feeling made him fall to his knees in front of her, gasping for air. She followed, palms still flat against him.

"Is this what you want?" He could hear her hiss.

"Keep me… Or let me go…" He snarled through clenched teeth, trying to stop squirming. Marie took care of that problem, straddling him, still leaning on his chest. Her eyes were completely blue.

"Can't let you go… But I need something from you…" She said, leaning closer and licking his lower lip.

"You in my head, Wolverine, had an interesting theory…"

Not a home 

"What the fuck… Are you doing… To me…" She was straddling him, holding him down and draining him from his power like a leech. Slow, small jolts, enough to weaken him and bring pain, but not enough to strip him from his consciousness.

"I'm making sure that you don't have to be afraid of loosing me… If I take enough, it may be permanent… Just like the force field in the Free Zone…"

"Oh… Shit…" He grit his teeth, new hope rising. Maybe she was right. Maybe it could work.

"Take what you need," he growled, hooking his hands to the frame of the bed behind him.

"I'll try to make it quick. But I need so much… Have to be careful. I don't want to kill you…"

Every memory he had from the past, every single shred of that horrid time at the mercies of the breeding center flared back in to life behind his closed eyelids. His body responded to the pull in level that Mechanics had taught it to respond. Agonized whimper escaped from his lips.

"Open your eyes… That's it… You're with me. You're with me…" It was Marie's face instead of the greedy, impersonal machine above him when he opened his eyes.

"Stay with me…" Pull crept in his veins, making his heart falter and skip over beats. As soon as he thought it was going to stop she cut the connection for few seconds, just enough time for his heart to pick up the pace again.

"Enough?" He managed to rasp when she released him. He couldn't even wait for her answer before he was crawling away from her, instincts telling him to flee.

"Was it fucking enough?" He asked with a harsher tone, backing against the wall, hands cradled protectively around his torso. She nodded and reached for him. He flinched away from her, away from her touch.

"Keep your fucking hands off from me…" He couldn't stop it. The fear and hate that it provoked, to be completely at her mercy.

"Was it enough?" He asked again, forcing himself to grasp her hand and pulling it back to his exposed skin. He wasn't sure if he could do it later anymore even if she hadn't gotten what she needed.

"It was. I think. I'm… I'm pretty sure…" He released her hand and shoved her away from him.

"Good. Get the fuck away from me. Don't touch me…" He could only hope she understood his need to be alone now.

She understood his behavior completely. She had him in her mind now. Screaming and spewing curses, and in the next moment apologizing before insulting her some more. It was like a rollercoaster, to swing along with mercurial shifts in his emotions. From complete darkness and utter fear and hate to love and caring within seconds. He hated her for having the upper hand and yet he was immensely proud of her strength.

It took him good part of the day to come out of the stupor. She was sitting at the front porch, drinking coffee and watching the sunset when he came out and sat on the porch.

"Are we okay?" She asked. He just sat there, gazing to the setting sun and breathing deeply.

"Yeah." He finally answered.

"Good. I have been thinking… Would it be possible to move away from here now?" She asked. That made him look up to her and furrow his brows.

"Now that I got your senses, I can see why you said this place is unhealthy. I think I can't stand a minute inside of that cabin. I nearly choked in the kitchen while I made this coffee."

"Hmph… I'm in no condition to start moving. Maybe in the morning. We can sleep in the truck tonight if the smell bothers you."

"Can I… Touch you?" Marie asked, sliding off the chair she sat, sitting next to him on the porch instead. Logan blinked nervously and swallowed.

"Okay…"

She approached him carefully, showing him her bare palm before cupping his cheek with it. He closed his eyes and she could feel him trembling.

"It's over. It won't hurt anymore. And I'm quite sure it worked. Apart from the power from the force field I have never kept powers or personalities in me this long."

"Come here…" Logan gasped and pulled her to his embrace, burying his face to the crook of her neck.

"You're like me now?" He asked hesitantly. She nodded.

"I get to keep you with me?"

"As long as you'll have me. I'm not going anywhere," she confirmed. Tension left his body along with a relieved sob, which he muffled against her skin.

"I was so fucking afraid of what would happen. What I would became after you were gone. I know I'm a selfish bastard, but all I thought about was that it wasn't fair that I would loose you after everything…" He pulled his face from her throat and cupped her cheeks, placing a soft kiss to her lips.

"You're not going to loose me. Not…" His lips drank the last words from her mouth; kiss no longer soft, but hungry.

He leaned against the railing.

"Your clothes. Get them off." It was an order, barked with harsh voice. She quickly complied. His gaze never left her body when he stood up and undressed.

"Come here." She walked to him, little hesitant and nervous. He had never acted this way with her before. One hand reached for her, grasping her buttocks and pulling her against him. Other snaked between them, parting her legs and finding her cleft, and small bundle of nerves. Few firm strokes over it made her squirm from pleasure and grab his shoulders to prevent her from collapsing. She could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, poking her upper thigh. It was hot as a poker, and leaving glistening trail of his seed on her skin. His fingers were teasing her, coaxing the moisture from her opening, preparing her. Flicking over her clit time after time, until she was nothing but a quivering mass of nerves, nearly sobbing from the force of her orgasm. That's when she felt his hands on her hips, turning her around, pushing her to lean against the railing.

"Logan…"

"Shut up." Low growl. Fast and powerful thrust, and he was filling her core, stretching her open and pounding in to her, teeth lodged to her shoulder and hands holding her in front of him, heavy weight of his body covering her back.

She screamed and bolted to her feet, throwing away the cup of coffee she had been nursing, scaring Logan who had been sitting at her feet, lost in his own thoughts. He stood up, scanning their surroundings.

"What is it?" He asked sharply, not finding anything unusual. Second time she had spilled coffee on him during this day.

He had come out from the cabin, fully intending to apologize his erratic behavior earlier, but she had been sleeping on a chair. Coffee in the cup had been cold already. He had seen no need to take it away. As soon as he had sat beside the chair, grazing her bare feet accidentally, arousal had tinged her scent and she had murmured something incoherent in her sleep. Next thing he realized she was screaming her lungs out, shivering in the furthest corner of the small porch, trying to crawl away from him.

"Marie?" He was crouching in front of her, mindful of leaving a small distance, some room for her. Much like he had asked her to do earlier.

"Don't. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please, don't hurt me…" she was babbling.

"I'm not going to hurt you. You had a nightmare?" Logan asked with a gentle voice, easing backwards, offering her some more space.

"It was a dream? Oh, God… It was a dream…"

"Want to talk to me about it?" Logan asked sitting to the chair she had been sitting moment ago. It was still warm from her body heat. Marie walked to him slowly.

"Fuck with me."

"Huh?"

"I asked you to fuck me," Marie said, straddling him and grinding against his crotch. Logan took her hips and stilled her movement.

"Sorry. Doesn't work that way. Ask nicely…"

"That's not what you thought about when we touched," she said.

"What I thought about you, us, when you were draining me, hardly matter. I wasn't quite… Coherent. What ever shit you picked up, forget it."

"But…"

"I would love to fuck you. Right now. Every possible way you let me. But only if it's what you want, too. I'm not doing it if it's some sort of test, or you feel the need to prove something."

"Fine. I'm going to bed." Marie stood up, stomped in to the cabin, but left the door open.

For some reason his reluctance, even when it came as a relief, hurt.

"You have to let it go. Now. You have had fucking twenty years to deal with that shit. Looks like you just pushed it away and hoped it would never come back." His voice was calm in the darkness.

"Let it go? Logan…"

"Shut the fuck up, and listen. I'm going to do something I promised to myself I wouldn't do anymore. Not ever. I'm going to force you to make a decision. Listen carefully."

"Logan…"

"Hush. Now… Which is it going to be? Me, or them? Which one do you want in your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"Choose! Now!"

"Are you nuts? You! Of course you! It has always been you!" Marie screamed.

"Then start acting like it! I have had enough of this shit! I want to be close to you! Love you and hold you! Stop making it so fucking difficult!"

"I don't know how…"

"It would be a good start if you stopped cringing every time I get closer than two meter radius from you. It's making me sick. Like I was some sort of monster. Because I'm not. I'm not even trying to claim that I wasn't there. I was there when it happened. But the part of me that did it to you, it's gone. I don't… I couldn't do that to you. Not anymore. Not even if my life depended on it."

"I'm trying. I really am…"

"Try harder. We're going to end up killing each other if we continue like this."

She knew he was right. She knew she had every right to be scared and suspicious, but it made healing and building the new life for them impossible. New life. She glanced around in the cabin, scent of mold and old memories stirring to surface. Sam. Love and momentarily fear and hatred towards the child. Unsurety of what would eventually happen. Constant struggle for making it past yet another day. Memories of the past, of the Breeding Center creeping in and making a nest. She could see it now. The deliberate way everything in the cabin was made and arranged. Every item easily reachable. Certain way some things were stacked up. Even the way she had placed the door and the windows, to allow fast packing and fleeing if the need came.

"Could we… I think it would be better… I would be better if we left," she whispered. Logan just stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"The whole time I spent in here with Sam, building this place and making sure everything went well… I thought I was making a home. This isn't a home. This is a hideout. I don't need to hide anymore." Logan nodded.

"I'm glad you finally figured it out."


	5. Home

Home. She was finally home. At the village she had left behind all those decades ago as a little girl.

There hadn't been much left. At some point, probably during last stretches of the War the place had been demolished. Destroyed. She didn't even want to know what had happened to people who had lived in there. It didn't matter. What mattered was the small patch of land she could call her own, and small house built from debris and huge slabs of stones she had found from scattered ruins with Logan.

She glanced from the window. Sight made her forget momentarily the task at hand, and she just stood there, staring at the small figure little further in the field surrounding the house. Logan and two camels. Animals were strapped in front of an irrigation trolley Logan had made. He was steering them back and forth over light green growth of crop on the dry land. She could practically see greedy sun drinking off droplets of water sprinkling from the trolley before they even hit the land, but she knew Logan would make it work. He had made it work during previous winter; he'd made it work now. He was probably more stubborn than the camels he was steering. For the previous summer he had been planning some other way to keep the field watered, but every plan up until now had had some serious flaw. Well they had was too deep and water level too low to construct any kind of working irrigation channel. He still remembered rain birds. Mechanical devices that were attached to one end of a hose. Other end of that hose was attached to some sort of pump that would pull the water up and push it forward, out through the water bird that would spread it over wide area. He had tinkered for few weeks now, designing and building different birds, but they were missing the pump and a hose. He was quite sure that he could find both of the missing items from a settlement, but to get there would take two weeks. And right now they didn't have a month to squander. Maybe after harvest, but not before.

She sighed and leaned her elbows against the windowsill, lowering her chin to her palms and let her gaze rest on him. The man she had first seen when she was just a child. She still carried the marks from their first meeting. They didn't seem to bother Logan. On the contrary, those flawed spots on her tanned skin were usually the first he sought out at night when they lay on their bed. Fingers brushing over them, lips raining feather-light kisses over every white patch, until she couldn't take it anymore, and she had to remind him how much she liked when he touched and kissed other parts of her.

She still sometimes went rigid and started trembling under his touch, but those times were few and far apart. When it happened, he usually left her alone and spent the night out, grooming camels and fixing things that needed fixing, or just generally wandering around. She was grateful for that. When memories came, she didn't want him anywhere near her. She didn't want to spoil this new image of Logan with the tainted leftovers from the beast at the Breeding Center.

She shrugged out of her thoughts when she noticed that the small spot on the furthest corner of the field had turned around and grown considerably larger. Logan was coming home. Hungry as a wolf. And here she stood, daydreaming, when she was supposed to prepare a meal for them.

Rice was cooked, leftovers from the previous day. She took out a large pan she had found from the ruins when they had first arrived here two years ago. It had probably belonged to the kitchen in the tavern. It was a huge, blackened, round slab of metal. Logan had spent several weeks building a fireplace big and sturdy enough to house it.

She plunked a knob of butter to the pan and raised it to the fireplace. Heat from the glowing coals heated the pan quickly, and made the butter melt and crackle. Next she threw in meat. Neatly sliced pieces, fresh from a rabbit Logan had caught few days ago. Waited until it was cooked and then add the rice.

"Hmmm… Something smells good…" She nearly dropped the bowls she was holding. She hated the fact that it was relatively easy for Logan to sneak up on her. For some reason super senses she had gotten from him refused to work properly when he was around.

She could feel Logan leaning against her back and his hands came around her, swooping down and catching the bowl before it fell and shattered to pieces. He reached to put it on the table, but didn't let go of her. Instead he grabbed her even firmer against him and buried his face to the mass of brown, silky hair that flowed down her shoulders, and inhaled deeply.

"Smells good enough to eat…" He purred. Marie giggled.

"It's the dinner, you big lug! And it won't smell edible for long if you don't let go of me and let me stir it before it burns!"

* * *

After they had eaten they just sat for a while in companionable silence. It didn't last long. Camels started getting restless, mooing and shuffling their feet. Logan cursed softly and stood up. 

"As soon as I get those rain birds working, I'll gut those two morons…" He muttered, stretching his back.

"Ow, my poor babies… Is big bad Logan going to hurt them?" Marie cooed, putting on her best effort of pouty lips and fluttering her lashes.

"Big bad Logan's going nuts with them. And I have two more rounds to go before it's finished for today. Don't wait me for the supper. I'll just grab something to eat when I get back home, okay?"

Had he known what kind of burden farming could be out in the desert he would have stayed on the road. But this had been what they both wanted. What they both needed. A place to settle down and dig in their roots. And things were looking up.

It had been slow going, but every day they had spent working together had lessened the fear in her eyes and posture. Every day spent on the field or tinkering in the shed had lessened his fears and tension.

He climbed on the trolley and grabbed the reigns of the camels. Snapped them lightly to let the animals know they could start walking.

It wasn't usual, or even recommended to irrigate fields during daytime, but out here in the scorching inferno he had had to write his own rules about farming. So far he hadn't managed to botch up anything completely. If they wanted to eat, he'd have to hunt. Only time of the day animals big enough to hunt came out was after sunset. He couldn't very well sit on the trolley in the middle of the goddamned field if he intended to catch anything.

Surely he could have let Marie to take on some of the work, but she already had her hands full back at the house. Keeping them fed, clothed, and tending the small vegetable garden took most of her time. And she had taken on sewing clothes for sale as well. She had learned how to make cloth from straws that were left over after harvest. They weren't very durable, but she made them colorful and decorated them with small trinkets they had gotten when they last time visited the settlement. At the end of the year, on market day they would be fit for a king. Not something people bought because they needed clothes, but something what they bought because it looked pretty. She could ask higher price from these articles than the ones she had made from furs and skins when she still lived with Sam. With any luck they would really be able to buy that pump and the hose he needed for the irrigation system.

"And after that I'm going to have me some camel-roast…" He grunted and smacked both animals harder with the reigns. If he as much as forgot for half a minute where he was, they stopped walking and stood there stupid, waiting that the tank on the trolley drained to the ground and made it soggy from mud, and he'd have to find that extra piece of strength to jerk it loose again.

"Goddamned… If I never see a camel again in my life, it'll be all too soon… Move, you fucking hunched freaks before I come down there and move you!"

They would have probably gotten along just fine if they were genuinely stupid. Nobody could help if they were little slow on the uptake. But he was convinced that the camels weren't stupid. Hairy fuckers were probably smarter than him and Marie put together. There was no other way why they could squirm loose from every trouble they had gotten in to. All they had to do was to smack their gigantic lips and flutter their eyelashes, flashing the most saddest, apologetic look to him with their moist, round eyes, and his all intentions of butchering them to where they stood disappeared. Vanished to thin air. Ug and Glug. Ug was the uglier from the pair. Glug had gotten its name soon after it had wandered to back garden where Marie had been doing laundry. She had turned her back for long enough to pin few shirts to the clothesline, and when she had turned back towards the pail camel had been drinking from it. It had finished the soapy water, smacked its lips satisfied and wandered off before she had managed to give it a good spanking.

No. He wouldn't be able to finish them off. In a way they had become part of his family. Their babies as Marie had put it.

"Then again… Do that one more time and it's open season for camels! I fed you fuckers this morning! It's time to work, not to eat!" Camels raised their heads from the ground from where they had been nibbling the light grey growth of grain. Turned to look at him. Ug had the balls to spit at him.

"I'll fucking gag you! Move!"

Camels peered him through lowered lashes, then turned to look at each other. Turned to look at him for the one last time before they straightened their long necks and started to tug the trolley forward again.

* * *

He sighed tiredly, unbuttoning his shirt. Camels taken care of, goat Marie kept for milk fed, skinny rabbit at his feet. Critter had stumbled upon the field, mad and delirious from hunger. All he had had to do was to pick up a rock and lob it at it. Had saved him from going hunting tonight. 

He shrugged off his shirt and jeans. Sun had already set, but the water from the well felt still warm. He scrubbed himself with the small bar of soap until he couldn't smell the scent of camels on him anymore and rinsed off. Hair was a different matter. He pulled a new bucketful of water up, and dunked his head in the bucket. This way water felt actually cold. Ug had eaten his hat earlier today, and he knew he probably had a sunstroke, when moving too fast caused him to sway dizzily. Nothing that a good nights sleep wouldn't help to get rid of.

He stretched his back and shook his head to get rid of the droplets of water that tried to stream down on his face. Peered in to the bucket when he noticed that he could see his reflection from the surface of the water. Sun had burnt off some color from his hair. Most of it was still black, but now he had light, almost blonde streaks mixing with the darkness. Was this how he would look if he ever would get old? He harrumphed and took the bucket, walking round the house to the back yard to Marie's own private kingdom. He sprinkled the water from the bucket over green tufts of carrots and other vegetables. Dry land drank the liquid greedily. He placed the bucket on the porch and hung the carcass of the rabbit to the railing as well. He'd have to remember to move it to the stable at the morning or sun would rot it before noon.

He patted quietly in to the kitchen. Fridge, their only item of luxury whirred in the corner silently. It had taken quite a lot juggling and panhandling to get their hands on it. He didn't even want to think of how big dent it had made to their funds, but they couldn't have gotten through without it. Well, most likely they would have been just fine, but it was nice to have something cold to balance the unbearable heat during summers. He had stripped off one of the solar panels from the truck and put it up on the roof of their little house. It gave enough power for the fridge, and they probably could have installed proper lights to all their rooms too, but somehow they didn't feel necessary.

For a moment he just stood there, his hand raised to the handle of the fridge. There was one bottle of beer left. He had been saving it. He wasn't sure of for what. He opened the door and grabbed the brown bottle. Held it against his burning forehead before putting it back in and taking a pitcher of water instead. It would be as cold as the beer.

He drank greedily, straight from the pitcher. Water felt good, flowing down his parched throat.

"Did we name the wrong animal as Glug?" Marie's amused voice came from the doorstep of their bedroom.

"Yeah. Probably. You think you could make me a new hat? Ug ate the one I had on today."

"I swear I dunk the next one in to rat poison!" It didn't take long to twine a hat from straws, but she was getting tired of replacing them almost daily.

"Oww… You'd hurt our widdle-little babies?" Logan cooed smirking. Actually her idea sounded quite appealing. Walking appetite would get the surprise of its life.

He put the pitcher back in to the fridge and walked to where Marie stood, naked as the day she was born, thin sheen of sweat covering her body. Seeing her like this, her hair still tousled from the sleep, drowsy look on her face, whole body relaxed and warm made him forget his earlier hunger and discomfort. He grabbed her shoulders and backed her in to the bedroom. He could already smell faint traces of her arousal.

"And what have we been up to while I was slaving my ass off with those freaks?" He murmured, burying his face to the crock of her neck and inhaling her scent.

"Dreaming…" Marie whispered, curling her hands around his neck and climbing up his body until she rested on his lap, her feet curled around his waist.

"Dreaming? Must have been a nice dream…" Logan chuckled when he felt the slick wetness sliding against his cock.

"Nice? The best…" Marie whispered, leaning closer to nibble his lower lip and rocking against him.

"It was about you… Me… Without clothes… And ahh…" She had been planting soft kisses on his lips while she spoke. He had grasped her hips and brought her to better position, sinking his cock all the way to her throbbing core.

His knees nearly buckled, and he lowered them both to the bed, careful to keep their lower bodies joined. There were times when they both enjoyed of rough, almost feral sex play, but right now they were content just to lay together, their hips hardly moving, grinding together in lazy pace.

"It's so beautiful out here in the night," Marie sighed gazing over the desert.

"Yeah. Close your eyes." He poured a bucket of water over her. She let out a low moan and rubbed her glistening skin with soapy hands, not forgetting to slide them over her breasts. Move accentuated their fullness and drew his attention to her still erect nipples.

"We won't be getting much sleep tonight if you keep that up…" He muttered, discarding the bucket and pulling her closer to him, sucking one pert nipple between his lips. Her hands cradled his skull and she gasped, arching to his touch.

"I… I don't mind… Wasn't that tired anyway…"

* * *

When he woke up, sun was already high up on the sky. From the kitchen window he could see small dot on the field. Marie. Well, if she wanted to struggle with their stubborn animals for a change, he wasn't going to complain. He had been meaning to clean up the stable for days now, but every night he had been too tired to start. And finally he would have the time to catch up with news of the world. He had installed quite powerful radio to their truck, and he usually listened it while he got the camels ready for the field, but at that hour there usually wasn't anything important on. Just few stations were broadcasting anyway for the civilians, and most of the stuff they sent out was so heavily censored that he could only wonder why the hell they still bothered to push it through. 

He got dressed and poured himself some coffee Marie had made earlier. Took the cup with him and walked outside, his gaze fixed to Marie and the animals. Hour. Two tops, and she'd be coming back home, begging him to finish off both camels as brutal and slow as possible.

"Well…" He'd as well go and start cleaning the stable before it happened. At least he would have good excuse to refuse when it happened.

Small alarms he hadn't had the use for years now blared to life in his gut, every muscle coiling taut. Coffee cup fell to the ground. He was about to turn around when strong arm locked around his throat and pulled him against equally strong chest. He could feel something sharp, probably a knife, grazing over his stomach, then sharp end of it poked his groin, just above his femoral artery.

She couldn't help wondering why Logan always whined and nagged about Ug and Glug. Sure, they had their flaws, but as long as you kept yourself few steps ahead of them and sensed what they were going to do next, there were no problems. In fact, they had acted like angels for the whole morning.

"Keep this up and there might be something extra in reserve for you tonight," she smiled, steering the trolley around some loose rocks. Unlike average farmers who kept digging and dragging all stones off from their fields, Logan had to drag stones from surrounding area on to field to stop all fertile soil washing off during winter. Terrain turned soggy, almost like a quicksand, and it was impossible to farm anything but maybe rice, but they had found out it wasn't worth the hassle. People weren't paying enough to cover the trouble.

He cursed silently his own stupidity. He had been playing Old MacDonald far too long when somebody managed to snuck up on him like this.

"Wasn't expecting to find you here…" Voice sounded familiar, and when he inhaled, the scent wafting from the attacker confirmed what he suspected.

"Likewise. Care to let me go, Sam?"

"I don't know, it depends… Are you going to behave, old man, or are you going to pull the same kind of stunt you pulled the last time?"

"Listen, you little piece of shit… I did it for you, and your mom. If it weren't for me, you'd be still slumming with her in that piece of crap rubble, with no hope of getting anywhere, ever."

"Is that so? And somehow it was better that you knocked me unconscious and made the decision for me?" Sam spat, knife digging deeper in to Logan's thigh. He could feel the tip scraping skin through the jeans.

"You wanted to leave. I showed you the way out. Let me go now, before I show you the permanent way out…"

Boy was stronger than he remembered. He wasn't going to disgrace himself by struggling. Only way out of Sam's grip was if he let go voluntarily, or Logan would have to stab him. He hoped the former. Marie would be less than pleased if he as much as cut a hair from Sam's head. Grip around his throat tightened momentarily, then Sam shoved him forward, letting go.

"What the fuck are you doing here? And how did you find us?" Logan asked, turning face to face with his son.

"Mom once told me about this place. I found some maps and figured that if the Army had already destroyed this place, this would probably be one of those places they wouldn't come looking for me," Sam grunted, toying with the knife. There were scars on every exposed patch of his skin. Some older, nearly white already, some fresher. He was missing one finger and an ear.

"Army? What the fuck are you talking about? I set you up with that caravan, they needed a driver…" Logan hissed, reaching for the knife and snatching it from Sam.

"A soon as we arrived to the settlement, I got off and got enlisted."

"I can't fucking believe this! Did I hit you too hard, or what the fuck messed up your head? Enlisted? I could have beaten and crippled you by myself if that's what you wanted! And what? You're on AWOL now? Huh? And you have the nerve to come here?"

Logan had thrown away the knife and taken firm hold from the front of Sam's shirt, knuckles shining white as bone, raising the boy partly up in the air.

"Are you fucking insane?" He hissed, their noses nearly touching.

"If they follow you here we're all screwed. I'm probably marked dead in their records, as well as your mom. If they found out we're alive… No. There's no fucking way I'm going to let you put your mom through that hell again. No fucking way."

"But… But it's not like that anymore!" Sam tried to argue, but Logan could see the doubt in his eyes.

"Not like that? As far as I knew, we're the strongest what they can throw against those fucking aliens. You're a living, breathing proof of that. You really think they would pass the chance to lock us up and start the breeding program again? I'm sure they could find some creative use for you, too. I don't think your mom is one of a kind. Or if she is, who knows, our next child could be a girl…"

"That's… That's disgusting…" Sam was pale as a sheet, ready to wet himself if Logan shook him any harder.

He forced himself to calm down, and lowered his son to the ground, letting go of him.

"Disgusting? You haven't even seen disgusting, boy. Well, we might as well go and tell your mother that you're here…"

* * *

Look on Marie's face when she saw Sam was nearly enough for Logan to let go of his anger towards the boy. Nearly. He stayed at the field with camels rather than followed Marie and their son back home. He needed to think. Needed to calm down and figure a way out of this. And sun wasn't going to take a day-off no matter what, crop needed the water. 

Sam clearly hadn't thought through anything. He had just taken off when going got too rough. Something Marie had told him to do when he was younger. But why the hell had the boy chosen this place to hide? It wasn't like there weren't enough ransacked villages and settlements to choose. Had it been just a strange fluke, or should he prepare to welcome even more visitors?

Camels jumped nervously when the sound of metal against metal echoed over the field. He raised his fist, letting the sun shimmer on the gleaming surface of his claws. It would have been so fucking easy. Just cut the brat to small enough pieces and bury him behind the stable. There would have been nobody asking questions.

"Should have done that two fucking years ago…" He grunted and sheathed his claws, swallowing bitter saliva that had risen to his mouth. He should have taken care of Sam when he first saw him at the arena. Marie would have hated him for that, but at least he could have claimed that he hadn't known the boy.

Should have. But what was done was done. It was easy to get smart and logical over something that had happened long ago. It was harder to stay sharp and clearheaded now. If Sam was enlisted as an ordinary field unit, Army wasn't looking for him that keenly, but if they knew about his mutation, if they had his DNA mapped, they wouldn't stop before they found him.

Yeah, officially mutants were equal with men. Officially. But Logan wasn't naïve. From tidbits of truth he had heard from the radio during these years he had gathered that War wasn't going according to their plans. Their. Men and women in high positions. They had underestimated the threat. Race that was attacking was far more developed than what everybody had first thought. For the stroke of luck they weren't able to move around very quickly in Earth's atmosphere, but that was probably the only thing keeping them for taking over. That, and countless mutants with different powers thrown on to battlefield. Some volunteered, but most of them were forced to enlist.

Officially such things as Breeding Centers and Laboratories were nightmarish mistakes in the past, but Logan had seen their greatest successes, and he doubted that the Army would turn their back to something so powerful.

"It's not like that anymore…" He mimicked Sam's panicked squeal from earlier and let his head droop against his chest.

"You have no idea how much I want that to be true…"

She did her best not to ask too many questions at once. She was happy. She was curious, and she was worried upon seeing Sam's condition, but the boy looked tired and hungry. Food and rest first. They would have time for stories and catching up later.

"Hungry?" She asked, plunking a plate filled with rice and meat in front of Sam, as well as pitcher of water. Sam dug in hungrily, and she sat opposite him, her eyes resting on his every move and feature.

So much like Logan. Same, stubborn and powerful air surrounded Sam as his father. Strange people would have probably mistaken him as Logan's younger brother. Well, maybe not younger. Sam had gotten older. He looked about the same age as Logan. Scars added years to his demeanor.

"You don't loose fingers and ears driving a truck," she couldn't help noticing. Sam chewed for a while and swallowed.

"No. No, you don't," he grunted a short answer before shoveling another spoonful of rice and meat in to his mouth.

"Logan did leave you with a caravan?" She asked. Sam nodded.

"Wasn't what I was looking for. Found something else."

"And that something else wasn't what you were looking for, either?"

"No. At first it was, but then… Something happened and I started to see the whole thing in a new light. Wasn't for me anymore."

"I see. Are you planning to stay?" She asked. She wanted to ask him to stay, but it really wasn't her place. Sam was a grown man now; he should do as he pleased instead of clinging to the strings of her apron.

"If dad lets me. I could stay for a while. Long enough to get back on my feet."

"I'll go and make you a bed in to the stable. And I'll have a word with your father," Marie promised, standing up. Sam reached over the table, grabbing her wrist before she left.

"Thanks. Thanks, mom. I… I missed you." She smiled and gave Sam a brief hug, ruffling his hair like she had done several times when he was just a kid. When she tried to respond to him, words got stuck in her throat.

She hadn't missed him. Worried over him and often thought about him, but there hadn't been a genuine moment of which she could say she had hoped that Sam would have been with her.

"I'll go and make that bed for you. There's water in the well if you want to freshen up, and I'm sure you can find clean clothes for you from Logan's closet, you're about the same size as him," she whispered and left quickly.

She practically fled from him, run away from her son, over the yard and in to the barn before she allowed herself to slide to the ground on her hands and knees. There were no tears on her cheeks. No scream in her throat. Just a sickening, black hatred towards the boy who was a living, breathing reminder of everything that had gotten wrong in her life.

* * *

It was already dark when he finished his last round. Camels were mooing less than pleasantly. Their constant bickering grated his nerves, but he tried not to treat them too harshly. They were probably reflecting his own lousy mood anyway. 

He left the trolley outside and guided the animals in to the barn. He could smell Sam's scent all over the place. He could see him up on the rafters, leaning his back against the wall and reading something.

He hitched the camels to their places and started taking off their reigns. He heard a soft thud when Sam jumped down.

"So. You can read?" He tried to act civilized. It wouldn't do to get them both aggravated. Boy had inherited his temper and stubbornness. Marie would find two corpses from here in the morning if they let themselves loose.

"Everybody reads nowadays, dad. And mom taught me when I was a kid."

Dad. Right. He picked up a curry and threw it to Sam who caught it before it hit his chest.

"You get Ug. Try to get off as much sand as you can." Sam started grooming the camel he had pointed.

"I talked with mom. She said it was okay for me to stay here. That's of course if it's okay with you," boy ventured while running the rubber brush through Ug's coarse hair.

"Do you realize what kind of danger you're putting us all? Have you forgotten everything I told you about the Army and how it operates?" Logan asked, trying his best to school his tone to conversational level.

"I guess I forgot. With you clocking me and everything… Hell, dad! Things have changed since you were in the Army. We had even mutant commanders. Some of the highest ranking officers are mutants, and…"

"We had mutant commanders back then. I had usually group of ten men in my command. And then there were commanders for mutant commanders. Men who told us where to go and what to do. But I'm not talking about the regular Army, and you know that, Sam," Logan spoke quietly, grooming Glug who enjoyed his rough handling enough to close its eyes and drool a puddle at its feet.

"I don't know what you are talking about. There is just one Army," Sam grunted.

"One Army with different branches. Back then I was a Destroyer. Nothing but a mindless machine. When I got obsolete they turned me in to Genetical engineers. In to Breeding Center."

"I know that. You told me about it. I don't want to hear about it…"

"You have to hear about it, because it looks like you listened jack shit last time I told this to you!" Logan's hackles rose and he threw the curry he had been using on Glug to the furthest corner of the stable.

"Genetical Engineering was something they did. Something from which they got out good results. More powerful and versatile mutants. More efficient and durable killers to throw against the enemy. The program was working. You can't actually believe that they stopped just because some nice people asked them to stop it. If you believe that, you're more stupid than I realized. Now, I'm going to ask something important. And it's very, very fucking important that you answer truthfully. If you lie to me and something goes wrong because of that, I'll hunt you down and gut you. Is that clear?" Logan had been stalking closer to Sam all the while he spoke, his eyes locked to his son's eyes. They stood staring each other over Ug's back.

"Is that clear?" He asked, unsheathing claws from his left hand and sliding them over Ug's back, shaving off the thin surface layer of camel's fur.

"It's clear," Sam whispered.

"Do they know that you're a mutant?" Logan asked. Sam nodded.

"Did they at any point take your blood or marrow?" Was Logan's next question. Sam shook his head. Logan relaxed and let his claws slide back in.

"I meant that I'm not sure. They could have during surgery. They didn't tell us very much what they did, just fixed us and it was enough for me."

"And that brings one more question to my mind. The chip. Did you take it out before you came here?"

"And how the fuck was I supposed to do that? Just in case you have forgotten, I didn't inherit healing factor!" Sam barked. That's when Logan lost it. He ducked and barged against Sam from between camel's legs, throwing them both several meters backwards until sturdy stone wall of the stable stopped them.

"I'll fucking show you how, you retarded freak!" One hand clutching tightly Sam's throat, other hovering just above his ribcage, squeezed to a tight fist. Claws were already stretching the tender skin between his knuckles. He could see them sliding out, then sliding in, parting flesh and bone. He took a deep, calming breath. Sam wasn't worth it. Killing him wasn't worth to loose Marie over. He switched the position of his hands and sat on Sam's chest with his full weight, unsheathing claws from his left hand, letting Sam to see them properly.

"This is going to hurt like bitch. I don't know if this'll work or not, but for your sake I do hope they haven't tried to locate your chip yet." With that said he cut off the sleeve of Sam's shirt and threw it aside. Poked and prodded his arm until he was sure the hard lump under his fingers was what he was looking for. Sam grimaced when one claw dug in to his bicep, but kept still. Wound opened. Logan retracted his claws and dug in to slit he had made with his fingers none too gently, and poked and prodded until he found what he was looking for. Tiny metal cylinder. He showed it to Sam.

"I have taken out more of these from my body than I care to remember. Damned hard to break, but put them too close anything electrical and they go boom. Now, be a good boy and take this to the hood of my truck," he whispered, dropping the chip to Sam's palm and standing up.

* * *

"Didn't have to do this to your mom. They chipped her alright, but with that blue stuff she got in to herself… It probably ate it off," Logan said. They stood few meters away from his truck and he was holding a remote that would start the engine. Sam was fiddling with the wound on his bicep, trying to stem the trickle of blood from it. 

"Blue stuff? You mean that blue powder that comes out of her skin, right?" He asked. Logan snorted.

"Have you seen what that 'powder' can do?" He asked and pressed the remote. Truck's engine roared. Small flash of light and cloud of black smoke signaled the end of the tracking chip.

"I have seen it only once. She was sweating pale blue liquid."

"You're lucky she wasn't more scared. We wouldn't be standing here talking right now if she had lost it."

"Logan, let Sam get some rest. And you should come to bed, too," Marie's voice floated to them from the doorstep of the stable.

"Yeah, yeah! We were just catching up…" Logan shouted. And then Marie was walking closer. She could smell Sam's blood. She stopped next to their son and grabbed his arm, her eyes fixed to still bleeding gash on his bicep.

"What happened?" She asked, her eyes darting between the men. Logan cleared his throat, obviously at loss of what to say.

"I just tripped over and something poked at me. It's nothing. Just go back to sleep, mom," Sam explained hastily.

"Is that so?" Marie asked, letting her eyes drill in to Logan's.

"If the boy says so. I'll just finish with Ug and Glug and come to bed after that, okay?"

"Ug and Glug? Who the hell named these beasts?" Sam asked amused, picking up the curry Logan had discarded earlier.

"Watch it. Your brothers won't appreciate you calling them beasts," Logan rumbled.

"Figures. You could knock up mom, but instead you go and screw some camel. And you have the nerve to call me retarded…" Sam muttered.

"Raise your hand, palm up," Logan asked. When Sam did as he told him to do, he slapped the curry he had been wielding to his outstretched palm.

"What the hell…" Sam squeaked puzzled. Logan smirked.

"Time to go 'knock up' your mom. Take good care of your siblings…"

Water from the well smelled a bit stale. He'd have to remember to check it out in the morning. It wasn't unusual to find a dead mouse or even a rat floating down there. He washed himself thoroughly, and made sure that not a drop of Sam's blood was left on his hands before he entered the cabin.

Marie was already sleeping. He could hear her breathing in the darkness of their bedroom. For a moment he pondered whether to wake her for a tumble, but decided against it. She wouldn't be in the mood. He wasn't in the mood. Hell, it would be a miracle if they ever got in to mood again. Wouldn't happen as long as Sam was with them. Boy stirred up too many bad memories. Speaking of which… He walked to the fridge and took the beer he had been saving.

"There won't become any better moment than this…" He muttered silently and opened the bottle, sitting in front of the fireplace and taking a sip.

What he couldn't figure for the life of him was why Sam had lied to Marie. Hell, kid could have told her how Logan had tried to maim him. Marie would have sent him away in a blink of an eye and Sam could have gotten his mom all to himself. Not that he wasn't grateful, but it was unnerving. He was in debt to his own son, for God's sakes.

He finished his beer. Grimaced for the stale taste it left in his mouth. Cigar would have been better, but they were hard to come by, and he had smoked his last one when they had finished building the house. Those had been good days. No Ug and Glug. No field. Just a well filled with shit and whatnot, rickety house, him, and most important, Marie. A lot had happened since then, but this certainly took the cake.

When he had left Sam with the leader of the caravan he had been dead on sure that that would have been the last he would see the kid. He had figured out quite fast that Sam was the source of most of Marie's fears and insecurities. Not on a conscious level. Hell, no. More loving mother or more devoted son you wouldn't find even if you tried to look.

And now the bastard was back.

"Bastard indeed…" Muties didn't marry. Even now, after it was declared that mutants were equal with men it was against the law to marry a mutant. Not that it mattered. He had kept a silent ceremony with Marie. Ceremony of their own as soon as they had gotten the house ready. He was quite sure that none of the religious groups in power would have condoned their joining, but for them it had been something good and beautiful.

He chucked the empty beer bottle in to cupboard and walked in to bedroom. Moonlight cast eerie glow over the bed where Marie laid. She had kicked off the covers, and there was a silvery gleam on her soft skin. He crawled on to bed carefully not to awake her and curled partially on top of her, tucking his face to the crook of her neck, and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a new day, and perhaps they all could get through it in one piece.

* * *

Marie woke up to the sound of hammering. Sun was rising, and she could hear occasional curses and footsteps from the roof above her, then some more hammering. Logan. As if he had sensed that she had woken up she saw him drop down past the window. 

"Showed Sam how everything works and sent him to field with Ug and Glug. Figured he could make himself useful as long as he stays here," Logan said, leaning in through the open window.

"That's good. But… What are you doing? I thought you fixed the roof last week?" She asked yawning.

"I did. I took one of the machine guns from the truck. I'm going to mount it on the roof. I'm going to make some other changes as well."

"Why? We haven't seen bandits in ages. And you said yourself that we could defend this place from them easier with the truck than…"

"I'm not worried about bandits. I'm more worried about what or who might follow Sam to here. I… Shit. I didn't want… Just promise you won't freak out, okay?" Logan nearly begged, fiddling with the hammer.

"Freak out? Logan, what… You're scaring me. What is going on?"

"Army. Sam got enlisted."

"I kind of figured that out myself. You don't get scars like that just by driving a truck."

"Yeah. And that's not all there is. He ran. They might be coming after him. Last night… I cut him. He had a working tracking chip in his arm. I cut it out and we burned it, but I don't know how long he's been on the run. Chances are that he just got out and came straight to here, but it might be that he's been running for some time already, and in that case they have tried to track him down with the chip."

"Oh…"

She wanted to crawl back in to bed. Pull covers over her head and stay hidden until it was all over. But she didn't have the luxury of playing damsel in distress. She could read it from Logan's eyes.

"I need you to start practicing. I can cook. Sam can cook. We can keep the place up while you… Practice. Just find a place far enough and downwind from here. But don't go too far. I need you back here if something happens."

He could see both Sam and Marie from where he was perched up on the roof. Sam was probably cursing camels to the lowest level of Hell right now, seeing as they were standing in the middle of a large, muddy puddle and the trolley wasn't moving. Marie was just standing out on the desert, naked as the day she was born, head bowed and hands spread wide apart. She had been standing there for half an hour now. Not moving, whole posture tense, sun beating her form mercilessly. He thought he had seen faint blue glow around her few times, but he could have been mistaken. From this distance sun distorted everything and made people see things that weren't really there. One reason why he had decided to sacrifice yet another vital part from the truck. He had taken out the radar and tried to find a way to rig it together with the machine gun he had already mounted on the roof. If he could scrounge up fully automated system, all three of them could efficiently concentrate defending themselves instead of keeping one of them constantly behind the trigger of the gun.

At noon Sam had finally gotten enough. He was returning, pulling his reluctant partners from the reigns and cursing a blue streak every time they mooed and tried to stop. He tied the camels in front of the stable.

"What is she doing? Trying to get a sunstroke?" Boy asked, waving to general direction of where Marie stood. Logan spat out nails from the corner of his mouth and put down the hammer. Better leave them up on the roof before his urge to bash in Sam's skull got the better of him.

"She's practicing. Which means it's our turn to cook. You know how to cook, don't you?"

"Practicing?"

"We figured it would be good to have ace in the sleeve just in case we get more visitors. She's trying to find a trigger for the blue mist," Logan explained and slid down from the roof, landing in front of the house with a soft thud, his booted feet raising small clouds of dust from the scorched ground.

"Since you're no good for much else than guard duty…"

"I know how to fight, dad! How the hell do you think I stayed alive this long?" Sam huffed.

"You can fight. That's fine. But what do you think would happen if I swiped your gut open right now? You'd fucking bleed to death under a minute, and that's only if you were lucky. You don't heal. Your only advantage in battle has been, and will be your senses and your instinct. They won't do you much good when they flank you and put you full of holes."

"Last time I checked mom doesn't heal either."

"She does now. And can cause hell of a lot more destruction than you have ever seen as soon as she has her head sorted out. So stay the fuck away from her and let her do what needs to be done. Get back in the field. I'll call you when food's done," Logan spoke with clipped tone, squeezing the railing of the front porch for stopping himself from tearing in to Sam. To his relief boy kept his mouth shut, climbed on the trolley and turned the camels towards the field.

It was already dark when Marie returned. Exhausted, covered to sweat and dust from head to toes. Healing had kept the sunstroke at bay, but she was hungry, dehydrated, and plain tired and frustrated for trying so hard and gaining so little.

"Sit here," Logan helped her to sit on the porch and fetched some water from the well, as well as a soft rag, and started wiping off filth that cling to her skin. She took a careful sip from the glass of water Logan had given her.

"I don't know what I did, or how I did it, but… I can't seem to find the right way anymore. It's there. I can feel it, but it's just out of my reach…" She kept muttering, leaning against the cool rag Logan pressed to the back of her neck.

"You'll figure it out. Don't worry about it. But it would be maybe better if you didn't spend the whole day out there. You'll exhaust yourself and then you're too tired to think properly. Maybe few hours at time, in the morning, or night, when the sun is down," Logan murmured.

"We don't have time to take this slow. If you were right, they could be here tomorrow! I need to be ready before…"

"You need to stay healthy. You're no good to anybody if you're too tired to even lift your pinkie when they come. If they come tomorrow, we'll be screwed. If they come year from now, we might be equally screwed even if you have the control over it. You're not the main defense. I am. And that machine gun. Even Sam. We're the front line. You step in if it looks like there's nothing left to do."

"Even if I was the last reserve, I won't do much good if all I can do is drain and heal! I need to find a way to make it work! I won't find it if I sit at home and wait!" She hissed, yanking the rag from Logan and started to scrub herself clean almost feverishly.

"This is exactly what I meant when I said that I don't want you to freak out. There's every possibility that I'm just paranoid! They might even not care about Sam enough to come looking for him, for Christ's sakes!" Logan grunted.

"And since when you being paranoid has meant that there's nothing to worry about?"

* * *

After he had helped Marie to bed he had been too wound up to go to sleep. He returned outside instead and sat on the porch, wishing, hoping, and craving for a cigar. Just one lousy cigar. As it was, he didn't have a cigar. He had Sam, who was venturing out from the stable, questioning look on his face. 

"I heard you guys arguing. What happened?"

"None of your concern. Mommy and daddy had some grownup's things to discuss. Go back to sleep," Logan grunted, keeping his eyes averted from Sam.

"No. I'm in this as well as you. I need to know."

"Et tu, Brute…"

"What?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, Sam."

"No. It might have been a shitty idea to come here. Even shittier to stay after I noticed you were here, but I deserve to…" Sam didn't have the chance to finish his sentence. Logan barreled against him with a loud roar, sending him stumbling backwards.

"You deserve jack shit. Marie? She's your mother. Me? I'm your father. That's where this all ends. We didn't exactly plan to have kids. I know it's fucked up to blame you from what happened. You had even less to say over the matter when they doped me up and threw your mother in that cell with me, but it's hard to go on and live our lives when you remind us both of the Hell we went through back there. I have tried my hardest not to cut you up because of Marie. Get off from my face before I change my mind about that."

"No." Sam stood up from the ground, defiant gleam in his eyes, swiping off dust from his clothes. Logan tilted his head.

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'no'. I won't get off from your face. I won't go away."

"You keep telling me that I know nothing. You keep telling me that I'm no good. But there's one thing that I'm not. I'm not stupid. You don't like me. Mom… Maybe she doesn't like me either. I don't care. You're my family. If anything happens, I want to be there for my family. I want to be able to do something. I know nothing? I'm no good? Then teach me!" Sam shouted, both of his hands curled to tight fists on his sides. Boy was barely keeping himself in check. It was much more than what Logan had been able to do lately. Even when he suddenly lunged towards Sam, his own fists raised, ready to punch, the boy stood on his ground, not flinching, not even blinking his eyes.

"Teach me, old man."

Instead of punching Sam right away he lowered his hands. Forced his right one open and extended it towards Sam who took it on his own. Logan closed his hand to crushing grip around Sam's palm and swiped him down with swift kick to his knee.

"Teach you? Why the fuck should I bother?" Sam was still holding his hand and tried to yank him off from balance. He succeeded. Move toppled Logan on top of him, claws from his left hand braced over Sam's bare throat. A smirk started spreading on Logan's face, but it quickly disappeared when he felt something sharp tapping his thigh. Sam's left hand was lodged between their bodies, and in that hand the boy was holding a knife.

"Won't do you any good. I'll heal," he grunted, adding pressure on Sam's throat. Knife dug deeper to his thigh tip actually parting his skin.

"You'll stay down long enough for somebody else to finish you off when I'm gone," Sam spat, dropping the knife and bringing his knees up, throwing Logan off from him.

"You're a fucking moron. There's nobody…" Logan snarled and tackled Sam, pinning him to the ground again and bringing them face to face again.

"There's nobody who can take me down. You think they haven't tried, little boy? You think I haven't tried it myself?"

"Mom could take you down," Sam argued. Logan's eyes narrowed.

"With that blue stuff. She could take you down with it."

"She could take me down any day, any way she likes. Leave her out of this," Logan huffed, pushed off from Sam, raising on his feet and turning away.

Just like his mother. Just like Marie. Sam knew exactly what buttons to push.

"I'm not going to teach you." He could hear Sam shuffling, getting up and brushing his clothes.

"Why not?"

"You have fresher knowledge about Army and how it operates. Things I do know, things I think I remember… They're outdated. Blurred. I'm fucking obsolete, Sam! I have tried to keep in touch with the world, but the way they keep censoring the news and anything that comes from the front, there's just no way of telling what is bullshit, and what is complete bullshit."

She could hear Logan and Sam fighting. Sam demanding Logan to teach him. Then the last blow. The one that made Logan retreat.

"Mom could take you down." She laughed bitterly in the darkness of their bedroom. Sam was wrong. To do something, to do anything at all required not only skill and means to do it. First of all it required the will to do it. She couldn't take Logan down even when her life had depended on it. When it had seem that everything was lost, and there was nothing left of Logan inside of the Destroyer, she couldn't take him down.

She could hear Logan answering to Sam, but he spoke so low and hushed tone that she couldn't discern any words. Next thing she really heard was when Logan raised his voice.

"…I'm fucking obsolete, Sam!…" Obsolete? Was that how he saw himself? She had to close her eyes and bite her lip to stop herself from getting up and telling both of them to just shut up and stop their childish bickering. Obsolete?

She could hear the stable door opening and closing. Logan sitting on the front porch and sighing wearily. She could see him sitting there, as clear as if he was sitting right in front of her in this room. Elbows propped against his knees. Jaw lowered resting on his palms. Eyes staring to nothing, and to everywhere from under bangs that had gotten all too long for his tastes, but he hadn't gotten around to ask her to cut his hair because there had been million other things to take care of before he could take care of himself. Not tomorrow.

Tomorrow nobody would do anything. She'd take care of it. They would sit down and talk things through before anything bad happened. Before Sam would try to take on Logan in real. Before Logan lost his temper. Before she'd lost what little was there left of her temper. They'd all sit down and talk things through together, even if it killed them all to the spot.

* * *

That little get-together really did nearly cost their lives to them. 

There they were, sitting in the small kitchen. Breakfast just finished. Logan cradling a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, staring at Sam suspiciously when the boy recited his tale of what he had been doing these past years. Marie was washing dishes, horrified of the brutality Sam had faced after Logan had left him with the caravan, but satisfied that they were all sitting in the same room, relatively quietly and peaceful.

"… I saw them. For the first time I saw one of them. The enemy. Have you heard those 'eyewitness descriptions' where people tell you about how the Aliens look?" Sam had asked. Logan had just grunted something and stood up, reaching for the coffee pot on the side table when it had happened.

Sharp metallic snap echoed in the kitchen. Logan stood for few seconds, one hand frozen in midair, other still holding the empty coffee cup. Then he was falling, something small and black lodged to his forehead. A bullet. She was screaming. Another shot, and Sam went down, falling to the floor. Mindless of the possible injury she dashed to where he laid. Sam was alive, blood pooling around his left shoulder and unconscious, but alive.

She could hear Logan groaning softly and getting up. Opening the door and walking outside. Bullets hitting his flesh, tearing him open and splattering blood on to the porch and the small window. He just shrugged them off like they were nothing. His healing was working overtime, she could tell from the way he was already sweating, and how fast the wounds were closing. He was walking straight in to the hail of bullets, approaching the shooters calmly.

Not Army. Just a group of bandits, five of them. Desperate enough to attack in plain daylight. Logan reached them, and snapped their necks, one after another. She turned to Sam, trusting that Logan could take care of the situation outside.

Looked like they had been lucky. Bullet had gone straight through, and it hadn't broken bones or any major veins. Wound was bleeding, but blood was not pulsing out, and Sam was clawing his way back to consciousness.

"Mom…"

"Hush. I'm here. I'll take care of you…" She tore off her apron and pressed it against the wound, trying to stem the blood flow. Sam squirmed and whimpered, but seemed to understand what she was doing

"What happened…"

"It was not the Army. Just some bandits. Logan's taking care of them." She could hear him walking back in, heavy boots clunking against the floorboards.

"It went straight through. Could you give me a towel from the clo…" Words died in her throat when she turned her head and instead of worried hazel she met indifferent yellow stare of the beast.

"Mom?" Sam called her, tried to get her attention, but she was unable to answer. Unable to move. She could only stare at the monster standing at the doorstep. Bloodied and torn predator who was staring back at her, recognition swirling in his eyes.

"Mom?" She couldn't even breathe when Wolverine stepped closer.

"Breeder. Where the fuck are all the mechanics?" Destroyer asked, crouching next to her, eyeing the wound on Sam's shoulder with mild curiosity. Sam didn't seem to hear, didn't seem to understand that something was wrong.

"I asked you a question. Do we have a mechanic with us?" Wolverine asked, turning his yellow stare from Sam to her. Finally she found some stray shed of strength and tried to crawl away from him, legs paralyzed, horrified whimper stuck in her throat bleeding slowly out. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. She had been shot too, and this was just some horrible hallucination, the last grotesque vision before her heart would stop and it would all be over.

Except that hallucinations didn't talk. They didn't grab your ankle to prevent you from running.

"I asked you a question. Where is our mechanic? This unit needs fixing." Finally Sam seemed to realize that something was wrong. His eyes narrowed.

"Dad? What the hell are you talking about?" He whispered with dry lips, his gaze darting between Marie and Wolverine.

"Sam, don't…" Marie whispered, trying to avert her gaze from Wolverine's face. The less contact with him, the better. Sam didn't seem to have gotten that manual. The one where they told you to how to deal with Destroyers. Instead of trying to appear harmless he grabbed Wolverine's arm.

"What is going on?" Wolverine huffed and swatted his hand off.

"No touching. Stay down, stay quiet, somebody will come and fix you up soon," Destroyer grunted, stood up and grabbed Marie again. This time she really screamed, screamed her lungs out when Wolverine dragged her after him to the front porch.

Hard slap on her cheek made her stop screaming.

"Look at me." She kept her eyes cast downwards. She wasn't going to look at him no matter what.

"Look at me. That's an order, fucking breeder, look at me!" She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. This was it. The last pun from life before this all was over. Hard hand grabbed her chin and tilted her face upwards. She closed her eyes, but she could feel Wolverine's breath on her face when the Destroyer leaned closer and inhaled deeply.

"They gave you to me. Then they took you away." She whimpered and tried to pull away from her. She felt his tongue on her cheek, just a quick dart over tears that had fallen.

"You were carrying our cub. That unit inside… It's him, isn't it?" She couldn't answer, but she was sure Wolverine could read the answer from her scent.

"And we're all AWOL. You have done good, little breeder."

* * *

She sat on the porch with Sam. Bleeding had stopped and she had cleaned and bandaged the wound on his shoulder. Sam was still weak and disoriented, pale as a sheet. His paleness had probably more to do with what was going on in front of the stable than the blood loss. 

"He's your real father. The monster they made." Marie spoke with toneless voice, her eyes glued to the sight in front of them.

"Destroyer? But how… What is he doing?" Sam asked, wincing when the noise of snapping bones and tearing flesh reached his ears.

"Taking care of the situation. Making sure that nobody can fix them," Marie said.

Something had happened. Last thing he could remember was lying on a cool slab of metal, excruciating pain tearing through his whole body. Machine had been working, trying to pull out something that wasn't there anymore. Last hours it had been guzzling his blood instead of sperm it had been designed to collect. He had tried to tell them, tell them to stop and let him rest and recover, he'd be able to continue after a while, but they hadn't listened.

Next thing he realized he was laying face down, his head still ringing from the blow, and stench of blood and fear were nearly strong enough to gag him. Breeder's fear. Cub's blood. It was clear that something had happened. Full-grown cub was living proof that quite some time had passed since he had been conscious the last time. And there was no stench of Army. Gunpowder, yes. Group that had attacked them were civilians.

"He… He already killed them. Is that really necessary?" Sam asked with quivering voice.

"I don't know." She was too tired and dazed to think. For her relief Wolverine hadn't demanded that they'd continue following the program. Looked like Sam was enough proof for him, made him satisfied.

"Should I go and help?" Sam asked.

"No. You don't go to him. You don't talk to him. Not unless he approaches you first. Try not to look in to his eyes or his face. Stay small and harmless."

He could hear them talking. Breeder and the cub. They were talking about him. How the cub should stay away from him. How they both should stay away from him. That was probably the wisest. He wasn't built to deal with them.

He swiped off long strands of hair that kept falling over his eyes. Sticky mess of blood, shit and other fluids glued them back against his skull. Much better. He'd have to ask the breeder cut them shorter when he was done with this.

"He told me… When we were driving in his truck that night… Told me about everything he could remember. At first I didn't believe. I didn't want to believe and tried not to listen. It was too… Oh, my God. I think I'm going to be sick… Can we go inside?" Sam asked. Marie shook her head.

"I don't want to aggravate him. We'd better stay where he can see us." She wanted to go back inside. She wanted to take the truck and run, but that would have been futile. Wolverine would hunt them down no matter where they went.

He could smell his own scent, heavily imprinted on everything surrounding him. He had spent quite some time in here. The man had spent quite some time in here with the breeder. Cub was newer arrival. And from the looks of it seen some real battles. The War was still going on. He couldn't bring himself to care anymore. He was through with them. Through with the Army. He had given them everything he had to give, and they had taken even more. Not anymore. He was finished.

Thighbone of this one was little trickier to chop up, but he managed to crush it. Had to make small pieces. They would rot faster. If he let the carcasses here like this, place would crawl with rats and other small critters, and judging from the condition of this place, the man and the Breeder had worked hard to get this far. He wouldn't stick around much longer, but he was going to make sure they could keep on living in here before he left.

It looked like Wolverine was finally finished. For a moment he just stood there, covered to grit and grime, surveying his handiwork. Stepped closer to the sticky, slippery pile of mutilated bodies and hacked open a ribcage he had missed earlier, then sheathed his claws.

"Do you have any gasoline?" She heard him shout.

"No. We use solar power," she answered. Wolverine grimaced.

"These will draw rats. They'll eat you out of the house before you even notice." And why the fuck should he care? It wasn't like he was a farmer. Far from it. Before she had the time to stop him, Sam stood up shakily, clearing his throat.

"I think I saw something at the back of the stable. I'll come and show it to you…" Cub was walking closer. Nearly stumbling over his own feet. Breeder had made a good work bandaging his wound, but he was still weak. He extended his hand, claws straining at their sheaths. Every instinct screaming to release them, but he kept himself checked. Urged the cub to wrap his arm around his neck and lean on to him. Cub's closeness was unnerving at least. To be this close to another unit, bleeding and dying unit was tantamount to suicide in the battlefield.

"Show me." She could hear Wolverine command with low voice. Sam threw a glance towards her over his shoulder. Wolverine's right hand curled around his waist when the boy threw his arm around Destroyer's neck. They walked slowly towards the stable, then disappeared from her view through the door in to darkness inside.

"I know what you did to her. I don't want you to touch her anymore. Is that clear?" Cub growled when they got out of Breeder's hearing range. That alone should have alerted him that something wasn't right. He put it away as delirious rambling and kept walking, half carrying the cub towards the corner he had pointed. Cub's hand started to slide lower from his shoulders, and he was getting heavier, leaning against him even more than before. Suddenly something sharp pierced his back, just under his right shoulder blade, slicing open tissues and lodging firmly between his metal-coated bones, shredding his right lung.

* * *

Cub was breathing, unconscious. He was barely breathing, every move opening the gash inside of him larger, tearing veins. Urge to cough came and went, then returned with vengeance when he twisted sharply, reaching for the handle of the knife sticking out from his back. His fingers grasped it, then slipped when series of coughs and gags forced him to lean on his both hands to avoid falling on his face to the growing puddle of his own blood that was pouring from his nose and mouth. He'd have to get away from here. He'd have to hide until he was fit again. It was impossible to breathe. Impossible to stop coughing even though he knew it did more harm than good. He was drowning to his own blood. Torn tissues refused to heal around the offending object. He forced himself upright, covering his mouth with his palm, trying to stifle itching, burning feeling inside of him. Something was blocking the doorway. The breeder. Had she come for Cub's aid. She must have heard his surprised shout when he had knocked him unconscious.

"Let me pass… Let me pass and I won't hurt you…" Wolverine gurgled through the blood. She stepped aside. She could hear Sam breathing. At least Destroyer hadn't killed him. Wolverine staggered past her, and she could see what had happened. Handle of Sam's knife was sticking out of his back.

He could more sense than hear her reaching out. Hand wrapping around the handle. Sickening feel of it sliding out. He fell on his knees, waiting. Waiting for her to finish it. Instead he heard the soft clunk of knife falling to the ground. Hands wrapping around him, helping him up again, towards the house. He tried to push her away. It wasn't safe; she should go and seek cover. It wasn't over yet. Enemy was still alive.

Not the enemy. No. Cub. Not the enemy.

"Fix me." It was hard to speak. She was trembling, out of fear or from the sheer weight of him? It was impossible to tell, all he could smell was his own blood blocking his airways and sinuses.

"Fix me." Wound was closing already, blood clotting, turning to sticky goop inside of him. She helped him to sit on the porch when he started to crumble, wheezing, coughing and splattering out thick strands of dark red lumps and clots.

"Fix me…" Mantra they had trained to speak out. He knew he couldn't stop before the crisis passed. It was built in to him; part of program intended to draw attention of the mechanics.

"Fix me." He felt her lips closing around his mouth and nose. Pressure easing slowly when she sucked off clotted blood and spat it to side.

She wiped her mouth, pulled a bucketful of water from the well and tried to rinse off disgusting taste and feel of it from her tongue. She didn't know why she had done it. What had made her do it. Wolverine was observing her, breath still wheezing and rattling, but at least he was able to breath now.

"Little mom… Take care of them…" Beast growled. Slight shudder went through his frame and he fell on his back, whole body limp.

She wasn't just a Breeder. He didn't know if they had a name for a unit like her. Back in his days there hadn't been. There hadn't been other units like him and her. He chose a word he had heard sometimes used from civilians by their Cubs. Mom. It sounded more than a Breeder. He was going to leave now, but he had to make sure they'd be alright.

"Little mom… Take care of them…"

* * *

She swirled around when she heard Sam's footsteps.

"What the hell where you thinking?" She hissed.

"I was thinking that I wasn't going to watch you get hurt again. What the hell were you thinking? Coddling that psychotic freak! You should have let him die!" Sam growled clutching his hurt shoulder and rubbing rather large bruise on the side of his jaw.

"It was none of your concern! He wasn't going to…"

"It is my concern. I wasn't there, I couldn't be there for you for the first time he raped you, but I wasn't as sure as hell going to just stand aside and watch him do it again!"

"It happened long time ago. We have handled the issue by ourselves. It wasn't easy to get over, but we did get over it. I suggest you try the same. Stop blaming him for something neither us was able to prevent!"

She turned her back to Sam and went to check on Logan. For Logan it was who now sat on the porch, dazed hazel eyes fixed to the pile of corpses laid out in front of stable.

"Hi. Welcome back."

"Back? What happened? I remember that I was going to get some more coffee…" Logan asked, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"Bandits attacked. Sam got shot, but he's alright now. We're all alright now. You took care of it. Come on, let's get you cleaned up…" She whispered, urging him to stand up and follow her to the well. She could hear Sam walking behind them, muttering and whispering angrily.

"Sam got shot? Was it bad?" Logan suddenly asked, swiveling around, his eyes scanning Sam from head to toes.

"I'll live," Sam spat, his eyes blazing from suppressed rage.

"Good. Good." Logan sat on the brim of the well while Marie pulled up a bucketful of water, his eyes still boring in to Sam. The boy was staring at him like he was going to attack at any moment now.

"Mom?"

"Not now, Sam. Could you go and get some clean clothes for both of you."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," Sam grunted stubbornly, sitting to the ground and leaning his back against the grey stone wall of the house. Logan tilted his head.

"Marie?"

She didn't answer. She didn't say a word. Just started unbuttoning his ruined, blood soaked shirt. He took her hands to his own and forced her to stop, to look in to his eyes.

"Why does Sam think that he can't leave me alone with you?"

"Wolverine paid us a visit while you were unconscious," She blurted when it came apparent that Logan wasn't going to let her go before he got an answer.

"I took care of those bandits?" Logan asked. Marie nodded. Sam snorted bitterly.

"Yeah. You took care of them. I wonder what else you would have taken care of if I hadn't stopped you…"

"Stop! Just stop it, Sam!" Marie shouted.

"What else did I do?" Logan asked, ignoring Sam.

"Nothing. After it was over he just… Wolverine just went away." Marie's eyes were begging him to drop the subject. He couldn't. He had to know.

"It doesn't work that way. We both know that Wolverine doesn't just go away. I can't… We can't switch personalities like that. What made him go away?" He asked. Marie shook her head.

"Nothing happened. Wolverine just sat down, and next it was you sitting there…"

"I stabbed you. I told you earlier I could stop you long enough, and I did," Sam said and stood up.

"And I will do it as many times as it necessary. I won't let you hurt mom."

"Did I try to hurt you?" Logan asked when Sam had walked away.

"No. And Wolverine actually sounded happy when he noticed that we weren't with the Army anymore. It was weird. I tried to keep Sam away from him, but he wouldn't listen. After Wolverine had chopped up the bodies he wanted to know if we had any gasoline so that he could burn them. Sam tricked you in to the stable and stabbed you in the back. He knew what he was doing. If I hadn't taken the knife out, you'd probably have died. You nearly drowned to your blood."

"I didn't think he had it in him. I guess I was wrong. But this shit has got to end before somebody really gets hurt," Logan grunted, tugging off his clothes and taking the bucket filled with water.

"I'll talk to him. And this time I'm going to make sure that he listens," he said.

He found Sam from the stable. The boy was trying to put reigns to the camels with one hand, spewing curses at them when they refused to cooperate. Logan took the reigns from him and threw them to a corner, wincing slightly. He'd have to sort them out later, but now he had more important matter to handle than a bundle of leather and cloth straps.

"What? What are you going to do now? Beat me? Claw me?" Sam snorted, his chin held high, anger still hot in his eyes.

"For what? For doing something I would have done myself? I don't think so. But we need to talk. Sit," Logan said, gesturing towards small stool near the stable's door.

"I rather stand," Sam grunted. Logan shrugged his shoulders.

"As you like…" He walked to the corner and picked up the reigns. Might as well sort them out while they talked.

"I know you did it to protect your mom. But stunts like that… They have got to stop if you're planning to stay here with us. Yes. I raped her. Yes. It happened several times. Yes, you were probably right when you took down Wolverine. But… They were different times. We were different people. It's all in the past. This is now," he said, rising the reigns.

"I lo… I need her. She needs me. Neither of us needs the shit you're trying to drag upon us. Let it go before I forget that you're our son."

* * *

She was cleaning up the mess from the kitchen when she saw from the window Logan steering camels towards the desert, gruesome load of Wolverine's handiwork behind him on the trolley. She couldn't see Sam. She wasn't worried. Logan hadn't sounded angry earlier, just tired. Sick and tired of the boy's antics. Just like her. She loved Sam. Yet she couldn't deny dark and ugly feelings that colored that love. Anger. Hate. Plain frustration over his incapability to understand life.

She was kneeling on the floor, trying to clean off sticky puddle of Sam's blood before it soaked in to the wood permanently when she heard the sound of the truck's engine. Angry roar as it started, then steady purr. She bolted to the window. She could see Sam driving past the stable. Was he leaving? Taking the truck? How the hell did he think she and Logan were going to get by without the truck? She was about to run outside, after the retreating vehicle when she saw Logan turning on the trolley and waving his hand towards the truck as goodbye. What the hell was going on? She discarded the rag she had been mopping the floor with. It landed to the bucket with wet splash, coloring the water in there almost dark red.

"Where did he go?" Logan turned from his task of digging grave, shoved the shovel to the ground and went to trolley.

"I gave him some money and told him to go and get that water pump and hose from the settlement." He started to go through pile of body parts, dragging biggest of them down to ground. His mouth was set to thin, almost white line, eyes narrowed.

"You gave him money and our truck! Are you insane?" Logan glanced at her briefly from the corner of his eye, then started dragging something that reminded distantly a ribcage towards the grave he had dug.

"Logan! What if he's not coming back?" Carcass landed in the grave with a squishy thud.

"He's coming back. Don't worry about it."

"But… How can you be so sure? Why would he return? We haven't done nothing much but fought with him for the whole time he has been in here."

"I had to force him to leave. It's a small miracle if that trip takes him even a full month," Logan grunted, throwing yet another grimy lump to growing pile at the bottom of the grave.

"Shit. Should have dug a deeper hole. These won't fit all in there…" He muttered, eyeing the pile disgusted grimace on his face.

"Why? Why now?" Marie asked.

"We needed a vacation. Few days more and I would have gutted him," Logan confessed, eyes still cast to the grave.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm being an asshole and he would have needed rest, but… I can't take it anymore. I'm up to my fucking eyebrows of his whining."

She had to turn away and cover her mouth when Logan suddenly jumped in the grave and started stomping bloodied mess in there.

"I'm not going to dig anymore… Get the fuck down already!" She started to walk away when sound of snapping bones reached her ears.

"Marie!" Sound of his voice made her stop.

"Give me a hand?" She couldn't suppress hysteric giggle that escaped from her lips when she turned around and walked to the trolley.

"Which one?" There were several of those among heads and unrecognizable bits and pieces of flesh.

"Very funny. Just throw that shit in here. I'll make it fit…" Logan growled.

* * *

"You do know that I wouldn't hurt you, right?" She gazed up from the book she was reading. Logan was sitting on a chair next to hers, his eyes cast to flickering flames in the fireplace.

"You know that I wouldn't… I wouldn't hurt you like I did back then?" He had just gotten back home from watering the field and they had eaten in complete silence. His sudden questioning made her flinch.

"I know."

"Good. Because I wouldn't. I won't… If anything happens, if they come, I want you to take care of it. You have to make sure that they can't use me like that anymore."

She didn't like the way this conversation had taken.

"And how exactly I'm supposed to do that?" She asked, throwing the book she had been reading aside. It landed with a soft thud near the fireplace. Logan leaned forward and picked it up. Fiddled through few pages.

"If it happens, if they come, I want you to take me down. You can do it. With the blue mist. Just make sure that there's nothing left from me to recover."

"Logan, no. I can't…"

"Yes. You can. Yes. You will. They fucked up us both the last time for good. I'd rather die than put you through that hell again. At least that way they can't use me…"

"Logan, no!"

"Yes. I will not rape you. Never, ever again. I will not mate with you in a cage like some fucking animal. And that's exactly what they're after. Either I find a way to kill you, or you do me in. And I'm that much of a selfish coward that I don't want to be the one left behind. I'm afraid of what I'd become without you."

"I don't even know how to use it!" Marie noted triumphantly. She didn't know what triggered the reaction that drew forth the deadly mist from her pores, ergo it was impossible for her to use it against Logan.

"You don't have to know how to use it. You have to be scared enough. That's all what it takes. And I'm nearly pissing my pants from even the thought of getting caught again. Can't be much different for you. I'm going to glue myself to you if I see even one armored vehicle approaching."

"You might as well rape me. Right here, right now," she spat.

"Marie, no…"

"No! Now you listen to me! I will not kill you! I won't do it! You can't make me!" She hated how her voice started to crack, but she had to make him understand.

"You were probably the only reason I got through that whole mess."

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even have gotten in there in the first place."

"No. I would have died with my father without you. But that's not the point. I learned something important from you. No matter what happens, we can get through it. We will get through it, together."

"Marie…"

"When… No. If they come, we'll fight. We'll fight as long as we can. The way I see it, we're both pretty darn durable. We can take almost anything they have to throw against us. We'll fight until there's nobody left to fight against. I'll die before I let them get their hands on us again. I'll die fighting, not bawling my eyes out because I accidentally killed the man I love." With that said she rose from where she sat and walked stiffly in to the bedroom, closing the door after her.

Surprisingly she slept through the night. When she woke up she felt good and rested. For the first time in years she hadn't woken to ugly memories from the past. Logan hadn't come to bed, but that was nothing new. Whenever they got in to disagreement he would slink back and sulk on his own until he got his thoughts cleared. It was a good, nice morning up until she walked in to the kitchen and found a note lying on the table, written with Logan's strong, no-nonsense hand. He never left notes. Never.

'Out on the field. Don't wait up, I'll be getting back late.'

Was it stupid to get worried over few words scribbled on to paper? Few words telling her that she shouldn't bother herself with cooking because Logan had probably taken his lunch and dinner with him, and he'd be getting back home late in the night. Except that he never left notes. Usually he came to talk with her in person.

She threw her clothes on hastily. She'd have to find him. Something was wrong.

Sun was rising. She could hear Ug and Glug mooing in the stable. Irrigation trolley sat next to stable. She could see Logan in the distance, at the end of the field. He was sitting on the ground; his back turned towards their home. She started to run to his direction. Sand was scorching hot under her bare feet, sinking under every step she took. Crop Logan had been tending with utter care prickled the soles of her feet, sharp, dried up twigs snapping under her weight. Dry sand. Dead crop. There was something wrong.

Logan wasn't moving. She called his name, but there was no reaction from his part. When she got to him and laid her hand on his shoulder he started to crumble under her touch. Clothes sagged, and dark blue sand poured out from every hole, revealing gleaming metal bones underneath.

She woke up screaming. For a moment she couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the agonized wail that tore forth from her throat. Then Logan was there, his strong hands curling around her, pulling her against his solid chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Marie. I shouldn't have asked you to do it. I'm sorry. You don't have to do it. I'm sorry…"

* * *

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm just so fucking sick and tired of being afraid all the time," Logan whispered. He sat leaning his back against the headboard of their bed, Marie cradled against his chest. She was still trembling slightly, but at least she had stopped screaming.

"You said it yourself earlier. You don't even know if they're coming. And there's nothing we can do about it anyway. We can't stop them if they're on their way to us already. But that doesn't mean that we should give up and leave with them willingly. We both know how to fight. We'll give them hell." Marie mumbled, her words partially muffled against his chest. Logan sighed and combed his fingers through her tangled hair.

"We'll give them hell alright…"

She nearly fell asleep, his warmth surrounding her and his heartbeat echoing against her ear. She nuzzled even tighter against him, and frowned when buttons of his shirt dug to her cheek.

"Take this off…" She mumbled, yanking the shirt open. Buttons went flying to every direction, but right now it didn't matter. And it wasn't like Logan cared. It wasn't him who got to sew them back in the morning. She cuddled against his bare chest with satisfied sigh. She was still slightly angry, but it looked like Logan had realized his mistake. His hands returned stroking her hair and shoulders. Small circles, over and over again.

She was already falling asleep when she felt something hard poking against her side, just above her hip. She turned to better position and felt Logan's hips jerk under her.

"Sorry… Could you move a bit, I have to…" Logan murmured. She shifted to the side and Logan unbuttoned his jeans, squirming them off. Her hand wrapped around his erection almost automatically, squeezing it gently. Logan's eyes closed and his head fell back.

"I thought you were still mad at me…" He grunted when she let her fingers slide over his shaft and balls.

"I am."

"Okay… Should I be worried?" He asked with shaky whisper when her fingers wrapped around his cock once more.

"No. You should be thinking proper ways to apologize," she whispered, leaning closer and giving a quick kiss to the tip of his cock. Logan uttered string of curses softly under his breath.

"How the fuck am I supposed to think when you do something like that?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure you'll figure out something…" Marie smirked, sucking the tip between her lips.

Her hands were everywhere, scraping over coarse hair covering the base of his cock, squeezing and rolling gently his balls while she licked and sucked. He tried to stay still, but it was impossible not to buck and thrust in to hot, slick cavern of her mouth. He would have wanted to lace his fingers through shiny, brown mass of her long hairs, but when he tried she grabbed his wrists and held them down.

"Honey, you have to… You have to stop…" She either didn't hear, or decided not to listen. He could feel the pressure building up.

"Marie… You have to stop… Please…" If she didn't stop soon, he'd come in her mouth and that wasn't the way he wanted this to end. He struggled his hands free from her hold and pulled her off from him, hauling her higher on his body until he could reach her lips with his own.

"It's my turn…" He whispered between hasty licks and nips and rolled them over. Move brought him between her thighs, forcing her to open. Scent of their arousals made his head spin. He started to crawl lower, but she stopped him.

"No. I want you now."

He grasped her thighs and spread them even more apart, leaning back on his haunches. She was already glistening wet.

"Logan, please…"

"Tut-tut… I was supposed to apologize…" He smirked when she tried to tug him closer. He trailed her outer lips lightly with one finger.

"Logan!"

"Hush, or you're not getting any…" For a moment he just enjoyed the view, then decided to grant her some mercy, and pushed slowly two fingers in to her quivering core. Small gasp she let out from the intrusion made the spring coil inside of him tighter. He pumped his fingers slowly back and forth, finding all the spots from which he could make her moan and scream. He spread her labia and let his thumb flick over her clitoris, once.

"Do you accept my apology?" He asked, nearly salivating from the feel, scent and sight of her.

She was fucking his hand, trying to gain as much friction as possible, and it wasn't enough. She needed him, all of him before she could let loose, before she could break down.

"No… You're still an asshole, but fuck me anyway…" She groaned, trying to capture his hand between her thighs. Logan tsked and pulled his hand away.

"Ask nicely."

"You will sleep outside for the coming months if you don't give me what I want right now!"

It was nice enough for him. He sheathed his cock in to her with one powerful thrust, making them both moan and shudder in unison.

"I really am sorry, Marie," he whispered, burying his face against the side of her throat and nibbling the salty skin there lightly. She wrapped her hands and feet around him, pulling him as close and deep inside of her as possible.

"I'm sorry, too…" Apologies given and accepted.

* * *

It was quite anticlimactic. They had just woken up, Logan was getting ready to leave to the field, and Marie was washing dishes from their breakfast when three heavily armored vans drove in front of the house. There was a knock on the door. Logan went to answer it.

"Good morning, sir. We apologize the intrusion on this early hour, but we have a bit of a problem, and we were wondering if you were able to help us?" A man wearing the uniform of the United Earth's Army asked politely. Logan had been ready to flash the claws, but now this unarmed, soft-spoken skinny boy threw him off the loop. Confused him enough that he actually asked what their problem was.

"As you probably know, your son, Samuel Logan, enlisted few years ago. Now he's gone missing. We tracked him down here."

"And?" Claws were itching dangerously close to the surface of his skin.

"Have you seen him?" Officer asked.

"What if I have?" Logan grunted, heart hammering at his temples. Any moment now. This had got to be a distraction. Any minute now armed Guards would swarm out from those vehicles parked on the yard.

"We were hoping we could persuade him to return to his unit. Have you, or have you not seen him?" Officer asked.

He could smell Marie's fear. Not a good time for final meltdown.

"Could we take this outside? My wife… Ah… She's… She doesn't much appreciate you guys," he explained, pushing officer in front of him, away from the door, towards the vehicles waiting in the morning sun.

"Oh, how inconsiderate of me! Of course. I'm very sorry for the intrusion, ma'am!" Officer shouted over Logan's shoulder before retreating.

"Sam did come home. I don't know what had happened to him, but he was a mess."

"Yes. Yes, I would imagine that. He refused the therapy that was recommended to him," officer nodded. Therapy? Logan felt hysteric giggle bubbling inside of him. This wasn't going according to the book. The big handbook of how to deal with hostiles.

"It was ugly. He'd snap out on anything and everything. He even tried… He tried to kill his mother and me. He really didn't leave me much choice…" He ran his fingers through his wild hair theatrically and closed his eyes. He could smell the change in officer's scent. Slight tinge of curiosity.

"Didn't leave a choice?"

"I had to kill him."

"Oh…"

"Yes. We're still… My wife and me, we're still… It's hard." He hoped the expression on his face mirrored utter confusion and sorrow instead of insane grin that threatened to break free.

"Yes… Yes. I would imagine…" Officer muttered, his gaze sweeping the ground and rickety buildings, darting to vans, and back to Logan.

"Would it be possible… I'm very sorry, but I have to ask… Can you prove that what you say is the truth?"

"I really am sorry about this, but the protocol…"

"I understand. You have to follow the protocol. I just don't know how much, if anything's left," Logan said, faking a sad shook of his head as they walked to the desert.

"I… It was awful. I was so afraid that he would hurt Marie. She was scared of him. You trained him well," he continued. Officer nodded.

"Coming from a veteran I take that as a compliment. Of course standards aren't quite as high today as they were in your days in the force, but we try our best."

"Here it is," Logan huffed, stopping in front of the grave he had dug earlier. Luckily wind had blown off some sand from the top of it, and he could see a shard of bone peeking up from the ground. He yanked it loose. It came up, accompanied by a wet squelching noise and stench of decay in the near vicinity of the grave skyrocketed. You could still recognize the lump he was holding as a part of human leg. Shattered thighbone attached to a kneecap. Officer paled.

"Do you need more? It's all there. I could dig him up for you," Logan offered. Officer turned to leave.

"That won't be necessary."

After he had been swarmed by the soldiers escorting the officer and asked to show his claws and even scribble his autograph several times they finally left. Packed themselves back to their little vans and drove off, leaving him standing to a cloud of dust and exhaust, few scraps of paper clutched tightly in his hand. Sam's service record, and a request for all veterans to re-enlist and help to defend the earth.

"Well, that was weird," Marie said from where she stood at the doorstep, wiping her hands dry to a towel. Logan scratched his head, trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. Weird didn't quite cover it. Giggle that had been building slowly inside of him finally broke through. He fell on his haunches and clamped his palm over his mouth to stifle it.


End file.
